


In Dreams

by Layneee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dreams, Dreamsharing, F/M, Kidnapping, Locker Room, M/M, Mystery, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-15 16:16:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5792263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Layneee/pseuds/Layneee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone on the planet is gifted with psychic abilities. When every boy and girl turn ten years old they are tested on these abilities and given a number. That number pretty much guarantees what kind of life the person is going to live. </p><p>Castiel Parrish comes from a long line of high scores and impressive abilities. However he learns that in the grand scheme of things, family history means nothing. Anything you want, you work for yourself. </p><p>Dean Winchester is a stranger, that makes a living breaking into people's heads and he's been damn good at it too. Until he needs very specific information and meets his match in Castiel. </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Why are you in my head?” Castiel asked. The guy just grinned and took a step closer, then another, until he was a hair’s breadth away. Castiel could make out the spiciness of his aftershave. </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Maybe I just like you,” he said with a wink. </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Castiel couldn’t stop the scoff that jumped from his throat. “Yeah, right. Now tell me the truth.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story for an english class. If anyone from that class recognizes it, hey! But I kinda wrote it wish Supernatural in mind, so here we are.

Castiel could clearly remember the day his parents took him to the ESP Center for the first time. He had been ten years old; bright eyed and full of excitement. He hadn’t been nervous like his classmates. He hadn’t seen any reason to be. After all, high scores ran in his family. His siblings, Gabriel and Hester, wanted to join him, but his parents insisted it was something Castiel had to do on his own. 

The ESP Center was bright white and stood against the blue sky like a severe cloud. Every major city had one just like it; a place where children were taken for their tests. Castiel had been reading up on them in his spare time. He learned that they used secret methods to test your extrasensory perception, and from those tests gave you a number that would follow you for the rest of your life. He had seen the ’69’ on his father’s City Hall I.D. badge, and the ’61’ on his mother’s drivers license. Hester hadn’t gotten her license yet, but she wore a silver necklace with a ’66’ in pink rhinestones instead. Gabriel had gotten his learners permit a week before and showed off the ’79’ proudly. Whatever number Castiel got would define the rest of his life. 

He hoped his number was high enough that he could gain powers like his parents. His mother’s telekinesis had always fascinated him, as did his father’s precognition. Or maybe he would find powers all his own; something new and exciting.  

The testing process wasn’t what he had expected. Castiel was brought into a room by a stern looking nurse, where he was told a doctor would come find him. He waited for nearly an hour. The walls were covered in abstract posters that captured his attention for a while, but he still grew bored. There was a single table across from his chair, with a single drawer and upon which sat a single book. He opened the drawer to find it was empty. Castiel was dejected as he closed it silently and picked up the book. Every page was covered by a solid black square, except for one near the end that showed a swirl of grey clouds. He closed the book and sat it in its previous place before sitting back in his chair. 

That’s when the door opened. The nurse stepped back into the room and bent so she was at eye level with Castiel. From her pocket she pulled out a small flashlight. She shined it in Castiel's left eye, then his right. She huffed and put the light back in her pocket. “We’re all done, here. Come now.” 

Castiel remembered being confused. Was that all it was? He asked himself. What about the tests? Surely they would have to ask him questions, or something. The nurse hadn’t seemed keen to wait, and Castiel had to hurry to catch up with her brisk footsteps. Castiel was led back to the waiting room where his parents still sat. When they saw their son they stood in unison. 

“We will call you with the results in a day or two,” the nurse said to them, ignoring Castiel completely. 

Castiel felt his mother’s arm wrap around his shoulder and squeeze. “Thank you,” she told the nurse. Then they left, and drove home in silence. 

After the test, Castiel felt the nerves that he should have felt before. The test, which hardly felt like a test at all, seemed almost too easy. In his bed, late at night, he had begun to fear that maybe he wouldn’t score as highly as he thought. He shared his fears with Hester, but his sister laughed and told him that he was being dumb and that everyone in the Parish family scored high. 

The Center didn’t call until a full week after his appointment. His father had answered the phone in the living room where he and Castiel had been watching mindless television. He frowned and shoo’d his youngest child out of the room. Castiel did as he was told, retreating back to his own bedroom. He had worked himself into a near panic before his parents found him and told him the news. He had scored a fourteen. 

A fourteen. Tears had welled in his eyes and he was unable to stop them from running tracks down his cheeks. He had heard stories about people with scores as low as his. They were never politicians or doctors or lawyers or anything worth while. They were janitors and waitresses, if they could even find work at all. People pitied them and talked about “those poor people with the simple brains.” He cried because that was going to be his life. His mother tried to sooth him, telling him that things wouldn’t change, that his life would be the same. Castiel didn’t believe her. 

It was good he hadn’t, because his mother had been wrong. Things changed, but in ways Castiel wasn’t expecting. He had always had a close relationship with his siblings, despite their gap in age, but he found himself being left out. When Gabriel learned how to do telepathy at school he immediately taught it to Hester, but when Castiel asked about it they told him, “you probably wouldn’t get it,” and “maybe later,” though later never came. His friends in school had learned about his score, since it was mandatory for his parents to report it, and they no longer invited him to play their made-up games. Instead he spend his time with his teacher, who gave him pitying looks and simple color books about sad frogs. 

Things didn’t get easier as he grew older, but he got used to them. He became accustomed to being mostly alone, both at home and in school. He had made friends with a few kids who scored like he had, but all they wanted to do was experiment with drugs stolen from older siblings. Castiel enjoyed it at first, but he found it dulled whatever extra perception he had. He stopped spending time with them after that. His parents wanted to send him to special schools where they could fix his brain, but Castiel refused. His brain wasn’t broken, he just hadn’t found what he was good at yet; but he would. He had been sure of it. 

It had happened by accident, at first. He was spending another sleepless night at home, wandering from room to room. Hester had fallen asleep in the living room, and was only an inch from rolling off the couch. Castiel had only meant to right her, make her comfortable. It took only one touch for Castiel to find himself somewhere different. It was a forest, full of tall birch trees with fluffy green tops. The ground was littered with light pink flowers that smelled like Dove soap. Castiel followed them until he found his sister in a clearing. Hester looked up from her blanket and frowned. “Castiel? What are you doing here?” Then Castiel felt a push, not a physical one, and he was back in the living room. Hester slept on, and hadn’t remembered anything the next morning. 

Castiel practiced dream-walking whenever he could. He found a sense of peace in the dreams of others. They were all wonder and beauty. He could read people in a way he never could when he was awake, though he could never interact with the dreamers themselves, or bend their dreams to his will. Sometimes they noticed him, while sometimes they didn’t. It frustrated him, but not enough to stop trying. Eventually he became good enough at it to make a career. He had been visiting Gabriel at the hospital, where his brother was using his bilocation to finish his residency in record time, when he met the Remington family. The patriarch of the family was in a coma after a car accident, unresponsive, and the family had been trying to decide whether or not it was time to pull the plug. Castiel had offered to dream-walk in his head. Maybe he could give them some hope that there was still a person to save. 

He had taken a seat on the man’s bed, closed his eyes, and concentrated. What he found inside was a void. Complete blackness. 

The space sucked the air from his lungs, creating a emptiness so total he felt like he was dying. He tried to move, hoping to find any trace of the man, but his feet stuck to the floor in a rancid black sludge. Every step sucked him down further until he felt it creep into his nose. Castiel struggled, distress filling him, and it only made him sink further. In his panic he yanked out of the dream so abruptly he jerked and kicked over a chair with his boot. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, both for the chair and the bleak news. He refused to say anything more than that. 

Word spread, until Castiel found himself spending hours a day jumping from one comatose brain to the next. It gave him some hope, that he could use his dismal score to help the people around him.

Today, he had spend nearly ten hours at the hospital. There had been a crash on the freeway and many families asked for him. He was mentally and physically exhausted by the time he was able to leave. He almost chose to sleep at the hospital in one of the empty patient rooms, but decided against it. His studio apartment was only a few blocks away, after all. His parents didn't like the idea of him living on his own but he was an adult, just turned nineteen, and he could take care of himself. He unlocked the door and closed it being him with a shove. A quick flick of his wrist secured the deadbolt and he slumped against the closed door wearily. Castiel stripped out of his jeans and t-shirt and slipped into his bed in just his boxers. Sleep, his favorite part of the day, overtook him before his head hit the pillow. 

Lucid dreaming, something that was a mystery to many, came easily to Castiel. It was as natural and simple as breathing. His prowess only grew as he spent more time in the dreams of others. He became the master of his dreams, making anything and everything he desired come to life. 

The dreamscape he found himself in was one of his favorites. The floor was an iridescent white that bled onto the walls until it was impossible to see how far the world went. Castiel breathed in the cooling smell of anise and mint, smiling to himself as the world shifted. Pearl colored snow fell from the sky. Castiel stuck out his tongue to catch a single flake. It tasted like the way Christmas felt. It was warm, spicy, and familiar. 

Where the snow fell it met invisible barriers, creating a glittering staircase that went up towards the sky. Castiel followed it instinctually. Wind circled his feet, obscuring the stairs, but Castiel knew where he was going. Every step rang out like a note in a song that you can never quite hear, but recognized and cherished regardless. 

He continued to climb for what could have been seconds or years. His bare feet never grew tired, no matter how high he went. Eventually he allowed the stairs to level out. He laid down on the white floor and looked towards the sky. To an outside observer it would look as though his surroundings hadn’t changed, but he knew. The air felt cleaner, and his head swam with it. The sky above him twisted with gray clouds, like the ones in the book from that day in the ESP Center, dancing to the music of the snow. He smiled as he lifted a hand and bent the clouds into the shape of a pirate ship, then a stag, then back to their original swirl.  

The wind spun his hair around and warmed his skin. No matter how long he stayed in his winter dream, he never grew cold. Castiel tapped on the floor. _Tap, tap, tap_ to the beat in his head. He was content. In his own head he could almost believe that his perception was strong like his families, like he wasn’t the pariah of his entire community. 

“Well, well, well. Quite a little world you have created for yourself here,” a voice said from somewhere above his head. 

Castiel jumped to his feet and spun. A man stood mere feet from him. He flicked snow from his shoulder and gave Castiel a charming smile. His light brown hair, which seemed like it was normally styled, was made messy by the wind and his green eyes were twinkling with amusement. He was wearing a worn pair of jeans and a black Led Zeppelin t-shirt with a leather jacket thrown over it. Castiel reluctantly found him handsome. 

“What are you doing in my dream?” He asked. With a thought the wind picked up. The man stumbled while he kept himself stuck to the ground. 

“Oh, don’t mind me, Castiel. It is Castiel, right? I’ll be gone in a jiffy.” The guy was upsettingly cavalier as he righted himself and began poking at the empty space around him. Castiel felt it like someone was itching his brain. 

“How did you-? Stop that!” Castiel said. He felt his dreamscape calling out to him, like it was in pain. 

“Ah, here we go,” the man said triumphantly. 

Castiel felt pressure in the space between his eyes and in a moment the room changed from his peaceful dream to something different. It was like one of those rooms in a bank where safety deposit boxes were stored. None of them had numbers, but that didn’t seem to phase the man. He hummed under his breath as he trailed his fingers over the little doors. He stopped on one near the bottom of the wall and snapped his fingers triumphantly.

“What are you doing in here?” Castiel asked again. The man ignored him as he tried to pry open the door with his finger tips. It hurt Castiel, and the itching sensation changed to a sharp burn. “Stop it!” He yelled. The room disappeared and Castiel found himself in the comforting winter dreamscape again. 

“You’re a strong one,” the man commented. “Are you sure you're a fourteen?”

The way he said it, like it was reported on the evening news startled Castiel. He had tried to hide his score since he was a teen. He purposefully didn’t get his license so people wouldn’t see it. Though, somehow, this man knew? 

“Who are you?” Castiel asked. 

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart,” he said. Castiel felt the itching feeling again, only this time it was more of a tickle. The guy was playing with him, trying to get something out of him. Castiel had heard about people who used dreams to steal secrets, things that only the really powerful know, but Castiel had always thought they were people of myths. What he didn’t know was why, if dream bandits were real and this guy was one of them, he would be wasting his time with Castiel. 

Castiel concentrated on closing his mind. He just needed to fight him off long enough to get some answers. The guy leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. He whistled, even and strong. “Impressive. Not everyone can keep me out.”

“Why are you in my head?” Castiel asked. The guy just grinned and took a step closer, then another, until he was a hair’s breadth away. Castiel could make out the spiciness of his aftershave. 

“Maybe I just like you,” he said with a wink. 

Castiel couldn’t stop the scoff that jumped from his throat. “Yeah, right. Now tell me the truth.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “You’re no fun.” Without warning the guy reached out with both hands and gently cradled his face, pressing his forehead against Castiel’s.

Castiel felt a scream build in his throat, but it got stuck somewhere behind his tongue. The pressure on his brain was so severe he could imagine it was getting squeezed by the man’s own hands. He pressed his forehead tighter against Castiel’s skull until he could no longer tell where the guy ended and Castiel began. It was like he was attempting to crawl inside Castiel’s body, and claim any spare brain-space for himself. Castiel knew, or maybe the guy knew, it was hard to tell which, that he was trying to get right to the source of whatever it was he wanted to find out. He was flipping though Castiel’s memories like a photo album. He could feel him, rather than hear him, tut at some and smile at others. Castiel tried to fight him off, but the longer they stayed like this the harder it was. It was like trying to stop feeling his own limbs. Not only was it impossible, but it didn’t feel right. “Stop it,” he whispered. His teeth were grinding together with the effort of getting the words out. 

“Almost done, you’re doing so well,” he felt the man say from within him. The longer he looked, the more Castiel found himself being able to see him in return. He saw flashes of images, feelings, words, _names_. 

“Stop it, Dean,” he said, stronger than before. 

Like a gunshot Dean pulled back. His eyes were wide, his jaw had dropped, and his hands fell away as if they had been burned. “How did you do that?”

Castiel felt the shift in dynamic. Dean was no longer in charge. The space around them shifted between one breath and the next. Now they were in a square room with large square panels lining every wall, the floor and the ceiling. “Tell me why you are here.” It wasn’t a question. 

He could feel Dean try to retreat, but he was quicker. The panel below Dean's feet disappeared. He was barely able to catch himself on the edge before he could disappear into the blackness below. 

“Fuck,” he said. Castiel took a step closer and crouched down so he could look Dean in the eyes. “How the hell are you doing this?” He asked, and if Castiel wasn’t mistaken there was clear admiration in his voice. 

“This is my dream, my world, my rules,” Castiel told him. 

Dean laughed, and adjusted himself so he was hanging more comfortably. “Anyone ever tell you that you're incredibly sexy when you’re in charge?”

Castiel felt his teeth lengthen, and he snarled. A growl rumbled from his chest as he bared his needle-sharp fangs in Dean's face. 

“Okay, okay. Put those away,” he said. The admiration was still there, but he seemed hesitant as well. “Let me up and I’ll tell you.”

Something in his face compelled Castiel to listen to him. He lifted his chin and Dean was pulled up out of the hole as if he was attached to a rope. Castiel didn’t give him a chance to adjust to the change before he asked for a final time, “what are you trying to find in my head?” 

“I was looking for some information on your daddy dearest,” Dean said. He shifted to his knees before standing on shaky legs. 

“Why?” Castiel asked. Castiel felt a tickle in his nose that made him sneeze, and a moment later there was a set of beanbags in the room. “Really?”

“If we’re going to have this talk, I’d rather do it comfortably,” Dean said as he sat in the bag closest to him. Castiel followed his lead. The thing was squishy, to the point of being unbearable. He stood and flicked away the offending seat, conjuring himself a sturdy armchair instead. It also had the advantage of putting him at a higher eye level than Dean; he wasn’t about to give Dean back the power now that he had it. As they sat in silence, unsure of who would speak first, Castiel used him fingers to paint the walls of the room until they appeared to be in a cozy living room surrounded by rich, burgundy drapes and flickering beeswax candles. Dean nodded his approval absentmindedly. 

“My little brother disappeared two weeks ago,” Dean said suddenly as he plucked a stray thread from the cuff of his jeans. “He’s a student at the university here in town.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Castiel told him, “but what does that have to do with my dad?”

“Do you know what your dad does? I mean, _really_?” Dean asked him. Castiel wanted to say yes, defend his father, but he couldn’t. Instead he shook his head. “I didn’t think so,” Dean commented.

Dean pushed himself to his feet and walked around the room. He appraised the surroundings, letting out pleased noises that made Castiel feel like preening. He stopped at one of the thick candles and flicked his fingertips around the flames. The soft light painted the angles of his face in sharp contrast to his easygoing attitude. 

“In the last three years, over two dozen people like my brother have gone missing,” Dean explained. “People with record high scores that chose to go to regular schools instead of one of those fancy ESP ones. I think they were taken, by our government, for a reason. I just don’t know what that reason is yet.”

“I still don’t get what this has to do with my dad,” Castiel said as he shifted awkwardly in his chair. 

Dean took a visible breath and turned away from the candle. He approached Castiel like he was a frightened dog and dropped to his haunches in front of him. He took Castiel's hands in his and Castiel let him. “I think your dad’s the one doin’ it,” he said softly. Castiel moved to pull his hands away but Dean held strong. “I know this is hard to believe, but I have proof. The day after any of these people took their tests, and I’m talking over the course of years, the Centers would call your dad. Nobody has put it together because they weren't looking back far enough.”

Castiel shook his head. “No. My dad wouldn’t do that. You’re wrong.”

“I really wish I was. But I’m not, and now Sam's missing and,” Dean paused as he dropped his forehead to their clasped hands, “and I just need to find him.”

Castiel had the sudden desire to run his fingers though Dean’s hair. He settled for pulling a hand away and patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll help you.”

Dean's head lifted and when he looked at Castiel he was astounded with the blatant gratefulness on his face. “Really?”

Castiel nodded. “I’m not convinced my dad is involved, but I still wanna do what I can to help you find your brother.”

Dean squeezed his one hand and let his head fall to the side to rest on the other. “Thank you,” he said earnestly. Then he stood and straightened the collar of his jacket. The soft expression was gone from his face, but Castiel could still see it in the set of his shoulders. He cleared this throat. “Well, I should be going. It was lovely to see you, Castiel, and I’ll be in touch.” 

Dean pulled him to his feet and stepped into his personal space, forcing Castiel crosseyed as he watched him. He gave Castiel another sincere smile before bending to give him a soft kiss, with just barely-there pressure. Through the press of lips Castiel caught a glimpse of Dean's fondness for him and he understood that he had impressed him. It was something he figured didn’t happen very often. 

“I’ll see you soon,” he said with a devilish wink. 

Dean pulled out of his dream in a cloud of gray smoke. It smelled like the wet sand and warm motor oil. Castiel jolted awake with that smell in his nose, and a sense that something big was about to happen.  

Then there was a knock at the door. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, you guys! The support for this story took me totally by surprise. Your comments made me so happy!
> 
> Also, sorry this chapter is so late. I hate to admit, but I wrote the first chapter with a very vague storyline in my head, so it may take it a while to put on paper (or on Pages, whatever) but I am trying my hardest. 
> 
> I should also give a heads up that at some point I will probably be bumping this up to an Explicit rating. Just so y'all know that's coming (heh). 
> 
> De tout façon, enjoy chapter 2!

Castiel’s heart was pounding as he rolled out his bed and onto the floor. His nose burned with the alluring smell of Dean and he sneezed. The knocking didn’t let up, and Castiel struggled to his feet. His legs felt like jelly as he wobbled over to the door. He flicked the deadbolt and pulled the door open.

“Hey kid,” his brother Gabriel greeted from his spot leaning against the doorjamb.

It was odd for Castiel to be seeing his brother again so soon. Gabriel’s hair was perfect styled to frame his face, and he somehow managed to be looking down at Castiel despite being at least half a foot shorter.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel asked as he crossed his arms; suddenly acutely aware that he was wearing just his boxers.

“You don’t remember?” Gabriel asked with a raised brow. “Probably not. You were so focused on your little parlor tricks yesterday you probably didn’t hear a word anyone had to say.”

Castiel bristled at the flippant mention of his dream walking. He knew what he did mattered, but that didn’t stop his families dismissal of it from smarting. In the back of his mind he heard Dean from the night before. _“Impressive. Not everyone can keep me out.”_

“I guess I didn’t,” Castiel said quietly instead of defending himself like he wanted to.

Behind him a cabinet slammed closed and he turned to see one of his brother’s copies filling up the coffee pot. No doubt he had another one rifling through his closet for some clothes. He turned back to face his brother with an unimpressed scowl.

“Ugh. You’re such a buzzkill,” Gabriel scoffed. There’s a gust of wind and Castiel feels the doubles pass through him as they are reabsorbed into his brother. “Mom and Dad’s anniversary dinner is tomorrow. They asked us to bring a hors d’oeuvres.”

Castiel vaguely remembered the conversation Gabriel was talking about, but not enough to know why his brother was at his door at eight in the morning. “And you’re here why?”

Gabriel pushed past his brother and resumed the task his copy started. He poured water into the basin and pushed 'brew.' It only took a moment for the smell of slightly stale coffee to fill Castiel’s nose.

“Grocery shopping, bro,” Gabriel explained. “When did you buy this shit?” Gabriel asked as he wrinkled his nose and picked up the coffee can.  
Castiel shrugged and left the small kitchen area to put on his clothes. There was no stopping Gabriel when he decided something, and knowing his brother he would likely drag Castiel out of his apartment wether he was dressed or not. In his "bedroom" a pair of seersucker shorts and a yellow and green polkadot tank top had been lovingly set out for him and he immediately threw them back into his closet. One day he would throw them out so his brother would stop trying to get him to wear them. Until then he pulled a pair of jeans from his dresser and a heathered maroon long sleeve t-shirt. He was slipping his feet into a pair of grey sneakers when one of Gabriel’s copies popped, quite literally, into his room and passed him a travel mug of coffee.

“Let’s go, sport,” Gabriel said as he snapped his fingers and poof’d away. Castiel shook his head, but went to follow his brother.

Gabriel was standing at the door with a mug very much like Castiel’s and a _hurry up_ look on his face. They climb down the stairs of Castiel’s apartment building together and then out into the chilly early morning air. Gabriel’s cherry red ’64 mini cooper was idling in Castiel’s spot, and Castiel climbed into the passenger seat without waiting to be told. Gabriel followed suit before turning on the radio and blasting the local Top 40 station at dizzying levels.

Normally Castiel didn’t care for music one way or the other, but a nagging feeling in the back of his skull made him reach forward and change the station. Gabriel side-eyed him in confusion when Castiel settled on a station playing a band he’d never heard before. Whatever it was, it was soothing to Castiel’s fraying nerves.

“Since when do you like Zepp?” Gabriel asked with a flippant gesture to the radio.

Castiel shrugged, choosing to listen to the music instead of speaking. For a song he had never heard before, he found himself singing along in his head. _“See my baby, tell her, Tell her hurry home. Had no loving', since my baby been gone.”_

“Whatever floats your dick,” Gabriel finally said when it was clear Castiel wasn’t going to respond.

It took three songs for the brothers to arrive at the local health food store. Gabriel pulled his tiny car into the center of two spots and jumped out with no shame.

“Really, Gabriel?” Castiel yelled after his brother when he got out, but by then his brother was nearly to the entrance of the store. Castiel looked around apologetically before sprinting to catch up with Gabriel.

He found his brother easily. Since Gabriel, the real Gabriel, hated to do grocery shopping and tended to sit at one of the store benches while his copies did the work for him. “Pop a squat, Cassafras,” Gabriel said with a pat to the seat beside him.

Castiel honestly wanted nothing less. He fed his brother a line about shopping for groceries for himself. Either Gabriel didn’t try and read his mind for the truth, or didn’t care that he was lying, because he just mumbled a, “whatever,” and closed his eyes to nap, presumedly.

Wandering the aisles was boring, and every once in a while he would have to hide from his brother’s doubles, but it gave him a chance to quiet a sudden irritation that was bubbling under his skin.

“What a dick,” a voice said to his left.

Castiel turned sharply to see Dean, dressed nearly identical except for a different band t-shirt, leaning against the organic cereal isle.  
“What are you doing here?” Castiel asked the man as he picked a random box of oatmeal and stuffed it into his basket.

“Is he always like that?” Dean mused, as if Castiel hadn’t spoken. “ _Serious_ dick, dude.”

“Why do you always ignore my questions?” Castiel snapped.

A thin grocery employee approached him tentatively from the opposite side, as if Castiel was going to lash out at him. “Sir? Do you need helping with something?”

“Sorry, no,” Castiel told him. “My friend is just being difficult.”

The young man looked, if possible, more concerned as he asked, “who?”

“My friend,” Castiel said as he turned and motioned to Dean, who was wearing a smirk on his face. “You're not really here. He can’t see you.”

Dean shook his head and did an embarrassing little dance, butt slap included.

“Okay…” the grocer drawled, “I’m guessin’ this is a psychic thing. I’ll just leave you to it. Let me know if you have any, uh, questions.”

Castiel nodded, mortified, as Dean laughed beside him. Once the grocer disappeared behind the aisle Castiel reached out and punched Dean on the chest. He was surprised when his fist hit a corporeal body, but didn’t let it show on his face. “What the hell, Cas?” Dean asked as he soothed his sore pec with his fingertips.

“You are an ass,” Castiel told the older man. “How are you doing this?”

“You’ve already opened your mind to me once, kid. That’s all it takes,” Dean explained.

“I did no such thing,” Castiel mumbled sourly, then adding, “and I am not a kid.”

“Maybe you didn’t mean to, but you did,” Dean said, softer this time.

Castiel stayed quiet, thinking over every moment from his dream until this one. “Was that you in the car?”

Dean cringed. “Dude. Ke$ha? What the fuck, right?”

Castiel felt himself chuckle against his will. “Is there a reason you decided to crash my grocery shopping?” He asked once he got himself under control.

Dean shrugged. “Guess I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to back out, is all.” He spoke with a kind of forced nonchalance that Castiel recognized in himself. For so many years he had needed to pretend that his lack of psychic abilities and his families joked didn’t bother him, when in reality they cut down to his core.

“I’m not, Dean,” Castiel said after shaking himself out of his thoughts.

Dean’s returned smile was dazzling as he slung an arm over Castiel’s shoulders.

All of a sudden Castiel was hit with his smell and with it the memory of his kiss the night before. It’s not that Castiel has never been kissed, it was just that none of his previous kisses had felt like that. He always felt like they were given out of pity, but not Dean. Dean had kissed him out of admiration. It had been a nice change.

Castiel felt Dean pull them to a stop. He was about to protest when he felt Dean’s lips on his. It was softer than the last one, but Castiel could still feel the pleasant undercurrent of affection. When Dean pulled apart Castiel looked up into his eyes and saw a range of emotion swimming there.  
“What was that for?” Castiel asked.

“I’m in your head, Cas. I feel what you feel,” Dean explained, making Castiel blush. Great, he gets a front row seat to Castiel’s insecurity. “Hey, stop that. It’s not your fault nobody see’s how great you are.”

“Thanks,” Castiel managed to say through his dry mouth. “But you should probably refrain from kissing me when it’s going to look like I’m kissing the air.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed. “Whoops. My bad.” He re-situated his arm on Castiel’s shoulder. They don’t end up talking much as Castiel wandered the store, throwing things like eggs and bagels in his basket. It wasn't until the end of the trip, when Castiel was heading towards the checkout counters that Dean cleared his throat.

“So. Big party tomorrow,” Dean said with a fake lightness.

“Yes,” Castiel replied, prompting Dean to say whatever it is he needed to say with a rolling hand movement.

“Think I could score an invite? Your dad may have stuff about Sammy, and there’s no way I could get into his house otherwise.” Dean looked at Castiel with big, pleading eyes. Castiel forced himself to look away as he thought about it.

Dean was right. His parent’s house is one of the most heavily guarded places in the city, both physically and mentally. While guards patrol the grounds, his mother and father are both trained in psychic security. Meaning it would be absolutely impossible for Dean to get anything without Castiel’s help.

Still, Castiel wasn’t sure if what Dean was saying was even true. What if he was making it all up in some ploy to exploit his father?  
Castiel wondered how he would feel if Dean was telling the truth and he had refused to help him. It’s that thought that made up his mind.

“I have to ask my parents but I think so,” Castiel said and immediately Dean pulled him into a tight hug.

“That’s awesome, Cas. You have no idea how much this means to me,” Dean said as soon as he pulled away. “I’ll hit the road as soon as I’m back in my own noggin. Should make it to Pontiac by tonight.”

“Where are you?” Castiel asked.

“Lebanon,” Dean answered. At Castiel’s confused stare he added, “in Kansas.”

Whatever Castiel was expecting it wasn’t that. Back when he was studying for his test he'd read every book he could on psychic abilities, and it had said that psychic projections rarely held up unless the two involved were in the same city, let alone when there was a whole state in between them.

“Kansas?” Castiel asked, shocked. “How are we doing this if you’re in Kansas?”

Dean grinned at him and touched a very realistic hand to Castiel’s shoulder. “I already told you, Cas. You’re something else.”

“I’m not, though,” Castiel whispered.

He was just a fourteen. He had the lowest score of anyone he had ever met. He couldn’t do anything his sisters could. He was not who Dean thought he was.

“Cas,” Dean said soothingly. “Trust me. Something’s goin’ on inside that head of yours. You ain’t no fourteen, I can guaran-damn-tee you that.”

Castiel wanted to say something; maybe tell Dean he was wrong, maybe pray that he was right. However Gabriel chose that moment to round the corner of the closest aisle and regard Castiel with his hands on his hips.

“Are you done yet? Come on, gotta get this shit back to Chez Parish,” Gabriel called. “Tout suite.”

Castiel could hear Dean scoff, but when he turned the other man was gone. That didn’t stop Castiel from hearing, _“such a dick,”_ clear as day inside his head.

“What’re you smiling about?” Gabriel asked with a cocked brow.

Castiel shook his head. “Nothing. Let me just buy my things and I’ll be ready to go.”

Gabriel didn’t push any further, and soon the two brothers were back in their car and heading in the direction of their parent’s home.

* * *

Somehow, even without dream walking for the whole day, Castiel was just as exhausted when he made it back to his apartment that night. Gabriel and Castiel arrived at their parents home just in time for lunch which was, as always, exactly the opposite of what Castiel wanted to do with his Friday afternoon. His parents talked mostly with Gabriel about his work at the hospital while Castiel mostly ate chilled soup and listened. When conversation turned to the party the next night Castiel had his opening to ask about Dean.

To say his parents were surprised would be an understatement. Apparently to them, their youngest child was just an antisocial fourteen with absolutely no social life. Castiel forced down his grimace as he explained Dean as a friend he met at the hospital months ago who would be passing through for the weekend.

His parents consented after that. Castiel thought they secretly were glad he was less of a freak than they thought.

Gabriel was another matter entirely. As soon as Castiel mentioned the hospital his brother ended up watching him like a hawk. He could feel a sort of static in his brain, like when a limb falls asleep, and he just knew his brother was trying to read his mind. Quickly after that Castiel feigned a stomach ache and excused himself to the garden.

He wandered the grounds for hours, waiting for Gabriel to forget his curiosity. It took until nightfall for his brother to find him and offer him a ride back to his apartment. Castiel took it gratefully, wanting nothing more than to get back in bed. While his brother still shot him strange looks in the car, they didn’t come with the invasive feeling of fingers reaching into his head.

Once home Castiel felt a wave of déjà vu as he stripped down and passed out on his bed.

Castiel conjured a dreamscape vastly different from the one the night before. Castiel found himself in a world that was _green_. He looked down at his feet where his bare toes were sunken in an inch of bath-warm water and deep green leaves. The leaves squished between his toes as he walked forward. All around him were tall, skinny cypress trees. Castiel inhaled the smell of evergreens as he reached the center of the grove.  
Set into the ground was a hole just big enough for him to sit comfortably. He stripped off his dream-boxers and sunk into the steaming, natural bath. Little green leaves curled over the edges and ticked the back of his neck as he relaxed. He cupped the water in his hands and dropped it on his head. It trickled down his temple and chin, leaving a feeling like electric currents in it’s wake.

Castiel closed his eyes and waved his hand, turning the white sky to something light blue and comforting. Off in the distance he could hear sounds, like raindrops on harp strings. The tune it created sounded familiar and foreign simultaneously.

Castiel could feel the shift in his dreamscape as it welcomed another into his world. He didn’t even have to turn or open his eyes to know it was Dean.

“Have you seen enough?” Castiel asked without lifting his head.

“Cas,” Dean breathed. “This is incredible.”

The awestruck lilt to Dean’s voice made Castiel finally look at him. Dean was standing against on of the trees with both hands outstretched, like he wanted to touch, but didn’t know that he was allowed. It made him seem like a completely different person than he was last night. That Dean had been cocky, touching everything. This Dean knew that this place was special. Sacred.

“How,” Dean paused to clear his throat. “How did you make this?”

Castiel shrugged his shoulders, making the water shimmer around him. “I don’t remember, actually. It was a while ago.”

Dean dragged his eyes away from the world and locked eyes with Castiel. His were wide with astonishment. “How long ago?”

Castiel shrugged again. “Two years ago? Maybe three? Why?”

“ _Christ._ How old were you?” Dean questioned.

“Sixteen?” Castiel answered tentatively. “I’m sure this isn’t something you haven’t seen before.”

Dean just shook his head and crouched down. He ran his fingers in the water, petting the leaves, which sang happily to Castiel. “No, Cas. I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything like this. I mean, I thought last night was impressive but this…”

He cupped his hands to collect the water, like Castiel had, but instead of letting it drip out he brought it to his mouth and drank. His eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed. “Jesus. It tastes like fucking lightning. How is that even possible?”

Quickly he stood and approached Castiel and gestured to his tub. “Can you make one of those for me?”

Castiel nodded and dragged his upper body out of the water. He could feel Dean’s eyes on his back as he pressed his palm flat on the ground and pressed. Under his fingertips the ground lowered until there was another identical pool beside his own.

Dean didn’t waste any time in stripping out of his boots and shirts. Thankfully Castiel was able to close his eyes before Dean ditched his pants, only opening them when he heard the shift in water as Dean lowered himself into the tub.

The other man let out a drawn out moan as he felt the current of the water pass over his skin. The sound made Castiel blush, but he could always attribute it to the warm water under interrogation.

“Why did you come, Dean?” Castiel asked after a lengthy moment of comfortable silence.

“Originally I thought we could plan for tomorrow, but fuck that. I just want to soak here until I die,” Dean said with another moan as he used his hands to drink more of the water.

Castiel chuckled to cover up the shiver he felt when Dean drank. He had always felt a certain kinship to his dreamscapes, and they were positively euphoric under Dean’s attention. “It likes you,” Castiel found himself saying.

Dean turned his head lazily until it was resting on the edge of the tub. “What?”

“The dreamscape. It likes you,” Castiel reiterated.

“It has feelings?” Dean asked again, voice going soft and squishy around the edges.

“Yes. It’s hard to explain,” Castiel said. “They are a sort of extension of me, so I suppose their feelings are my feelings but it feels different. Purer. Last night, when you were trying to get into my head I could feel it cry out to me, asking to make the pain stop.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered in quiet honesty. “I didn’t know.”

“I know, and I forgive you,” Castiel told him.

Castiel leaned his head back against the edge of the tub and could feel Dean do the same. Gradually he felt a tingle, right behind his ears, like blunt nails scratching into his scalp. His mouth dropped open with a breathy exhale. Somehow he just knew it was a reaction to something Dean was doing, but he didn’t dare speak for fear that Dean would stop.

“Traveling Riverside Blues,” Dean said quietly.

“Huh?” Castiel managed to mumble in reply. His brain felt like the best kind of jelly.

“That weird music? I don’t what it is, but it’s playin’ Traveling Riverside Blues,” Dean explained.

“The song from the car?” Castiel asked, head lolling over so he could face Dean, who was scratching his fingers gently through the green ground cover.

“Yeah,” Dean said with a smile directed at Castiel. “It’s my favorite.”

Castiel just hummed and sunk back into the tub and the feeling of phantom fingers in his hair.

* * *

It was a strange feeling, to fall asleep within a dream.

Castiel could honestly say it had never happened to him before, but somehow it seemed to natural to do so. When he woke he was still within his green dreamscape, but a quick head turn revealed an empty tub beside him. When he felt the disappointment that Dean was gone it was difficult to tell wether it came from his dreamscape or himself.

With little effort Castiel pulled himself from the dream and into the real world.

The double sleep meant Castiel felt more rested that he had in his entire life. He found himself grinning at the ceiling as he snuggled into his bedcovers. His clock said it was nearly noon, much later than he normally slept, but he was thankful for the extra time.

When he finally pulled himself out of his bed his eyes zeroed in on a piece of paper that definitely wasn’t there when he fell asleep. He approached it cautiously, but as soon as he flipped it open he relaxed. In tidy capital letters was a note from Dean.

 _Cas,_ it read, _Sorry I had to leave you alone last night. But I had to meet someone this morning. They gave me your address, I hope you don’t mind. I’ll pick you up tonight for the party. You really are a lifesaver._ Then at the bottom, written lighter, as if Dean was unsure of himself he added, _P.S. That place really was amazing. I wasn’t lying about stayin' there forever. Makes me wonder what else you got in that head of yours._

Castiel found himself smiling as he thought about showing Dean his other dreamscapes. Until then, he had a party to get ready for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just gotta say the Cirque du Soleil pandora station is killer to write to.
> 
> And kudos to anyone who can guess my inspiration for Castiel's dreamscape. I think I wanna come up with one for every color. Already got white and green. Any suggestions for the others?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been such a bad author. So sorry about the long wait between chapters. Good news is my school term is over so I can focus on writing more and more.

Dinner parties thrown by Senator Zachariah Parish and his wife, Naomi, had become nothing more than a chore to Castiel. There had been a time when he was a kid they they had been almost fun. Some of his parents’ friends were pleasant, and sometimes they brought their children. Castiel could distinctly remember when a woman named Rowena and her son Crowley had visited when he was nine. While the grown ups talked business, Castiel and Crowley snuck out to the garden where the older boy made fire dance around them like cancan dancers. But when one of his mother’s pride rhododendron bushes got caught in the crossfire, Castiel found himself given a lot less opportunity to enjoy himself.

Since then he was made to sit still, eat with the proper utensils, and speak only when spoken too. As he got older his parents were less strict, but by that time he didn’t have much to talk about anyway. He just went to his their dinners like a good son and didn’t cause any more trouble.

Now, however, he was nervous, because he was intentionally bringing trouble, even if he was the only one that knew about it. It was making him sticky with sweat. He jumped into the shower and spent an embarrassingly long time under the hot spray. By the time he got out it was nearly two o’clock and his fingers were pruny, but he felt more ready to face the night. He didn’t bother with dressing up right away, instead throwing on a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

With nothing better to do, Castiel sat himself cross-legged in the middle of his apartment and pulled one of his old textbooks into his lap. It was one of those “Psychic Ability” manuals they gave to grade schoolers before they took their tests, and in the time before Castiel got his fourteen he had practically memorized the thing. Before that day he read it with wide eyes, dreaming about doing the fantastic things it described. When he read it after, he did it with nothing but longing.

Now, he read it with a more acute curiosity. Dean’s near insistence that Castiel wasn’t just a fourteen made it hard for Castiel to think about anything else. He flipped past the chapters on the history of psychic abilities and how the ESP Centers worked, and stopped on the pages describing different powers.

Most of them he was familiar with just by watching his family. Things like pyrokenisis, telepathy, and precognition. He had never been able to do any of that stuff. He didn’t even know where to begin trying. He remembered Gabriel talking about his first day of advanced classes. His brother had bragged that he ‘mastered’ telekinesis on his first day.

Castiel figured that was as good a place as any to start. From across the room he eyed a simple ballpoint pen. He forced his focus on the object, but it didn’t so much as twitch.

With a groan Castiel flopped backwards and threw his arms over his eyes.

Dean was wrong, that’s all there was to it.

_“Cas.”_

Castiel lifted his head, expecting to see Dean standing in his home, but he didn’t.

_“I can feel you freakin’ out over there. Stop it. We’ll talk later.”_

Castiel couldn’t resist the urge to raise his middle finger to the empty room and could feel Dean’s laughter. While he knew he could spend the whole day trying and failing to move a pen, he knew he shouldn’t.

To make himself feel at least a little productive, Castiel dressed in a pair of jeans with his t-shirt and walked the short distance to the hospital. There were always people there in need of his services. And dream walking had a way of clearing the fuzziness from his brain.

It was always grim in the hospital, but that didn’t bother Castiel. Not anymore, anyway.

Most of the people he visited were lost causes, but there was one little girl who still had a chance. Her parents were beyond ecstatic.

When Castiel finally made it home he was beyond exhausted, but at least felt good about himself. He barely had a change to slip off his t-shirt before there was a knock at the door. Castiel pulled it open, and saw Dean leaning against the doorjamb with a cocky grin and a raised brow. Castiel watched as his eyes dropped low, then back up slowly, and if possible his brows climbed higher.

“Well, now I feel overdressed,” he said with a laugh.

Castiel could feel himself flush and he crossed his arms self consciously.

“Not that I’m complainin’ or anything,” Dean added. He slipped his thumbs under the striped suspenders he wore over a oppositely striped button up. “You gonna invite me in?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Castiel fumbled as he stepped back and let Dean into his apartment. “Let me just…” He trailed off while gesturing to his closet. Dean seemed unconcerned as he perused Castiel’s bookshelves.

From his closet Castiel grabbed a pair of black slacks and a white button down. It was the average Parish dinner attire. He slipped into the bathroom to change, very aware that Dean, the real Dean, was in his home. As he changed he wondered why it didn’t feel weird, because it seemed like it should. He and Dean had forged a kind of connection. They had shared thoughts and emotions and dreams. And yet this was the first time they’ve been within spitting distance of one another.

“Come on, Cas!” Dean called.

Castiel huffed, but hurried his dressing. He stepped out of the bathroom a moment later. Dean had finished his browsing and had seated himself at the end of Castiel’s bed. His head, which was dropped to look at the phone in his lap, perked up when the door squeaked open. He smiled and let out a whistle. “You clean up nice, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” Castiel grumbled as he slipped his feet into a pair of black sneakers. “You’re what? A couple years older than me?”

“I’m twenty-six, dude,” Dean said as he stood and smoothed out his jeans. “You ready?”

Castiel nodded as he slipped a tan trench coat over his shoulders. Dean led the way out of the apartment, pausing long enough for Castiel to lock the deadbolt, and down towards the parking lot. Parked in Castiel’s spot was a large black muscle car that just screamed Dean. Without needing to be hold Castiel approached the passenger side door and waited for Dean to unlock it. Dean gave him a unreadable look but let him into the car regardless.

The drive to his parents how was amicably silent, save for Castiel’s directions. He could vaguely recognize the music quietly pumping through the speakers.

It wasn't until they pulled into his parents round, cobblestone driveway that Castiel turned to face Dean. “So what’s going to happen tonight?”

Dean killed the engine and pulled his keys out of the ignition before mirroring Castiel. “You don’t have to do anything, man,” Dean said. “Once I’m in I’ll just slip away and see if I can find anything about Sam.”

“Surely I can help in some way,” Castiel told him with a frown.

Dean reached over and squeezed Castiel’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to get in trouble, Cas. This is all on me. You’re risking enough just getting me in there.”

“But if you need anything you’ll tell me, right?” Castiel asked.

Dean smiled. “Of course, man.”

Castiel returned the smile and slipped out of the car. He could hear the creak-slam behind him as Dean did the same.

“You grew up here?” Dean asked with a whistle as he looked up at the grand house.

“It wasn’t as glamorous as you’d think,” Castiel told him as he started up the steps to the front door.

Before Castiel could touch the door it swung open swiftly, revealing Gabriel with a sleazy grin and a lollypop stick hanging from his mouth.

“Well, well, well. You are quite the specimen, ain’tcha?” Gabriel asked Dean, completely ignoring Castiel. “And you’re, what? Hanging with this mook?”

Castiel could feel his heckles raise, but he ignored them. He was more than used to his brother’s dismissal of him.

“I happen to like this mook,” Dean said as he threw an arm over Castiel’s shoulders. It was a nice feeling, to have someone stand up for him.

Gabriel looked surprised, and was taken aback enough to let them into the house without any more questions.

“Thank you,” Castiel said quietly once he knew he was out of hearing distance of his brother.

“Don’t even mention it,” Dean told him. “You don’t deserve that shit.”

Castiel thanked whoever he could that Dean couldn’t see his face at this angle, because otherwise he would have seen the way Castiel’s face flushed like a ripe tomato. He knew that Dean could probably sense his embarrassment, but was kind enough to not mention it. Castiel led the two of them towards the dining room, shaking Dean’s arm loose as they neared it. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the weight of it on his shoulder, quite the contrary, but he knew his parents would be sightly less than pleased to see it.

The large dining room where his parents entertained was just as large and grand as the rest of the house. It was long with an impressive white marble table, above which hung a genuine crystal chandelier. The walls were a crisp white and had guided gold panels all around. There was even a gold fireplace at one end where the gas fireplace was already turned on.

Dean whistled beside him, at the room or the food already presented along the center of the table, Castiel didn’t know.

Zachariah and Naomi were conjugated with one of their friends by the liquor cabinet, each with what looked like a glass of brandy in hand. Naomi noticed them first, and excused her self politely to wander over.

“Castiel,” she said in greeting with as much of a smile as her face could handle. It was never much, but Castiel figured it was the effort that counts. “Lovely to see you dear. And is this your friend?”

“Mother,” Castiel replied, giving her a quick kiss to the cheek. “This is Dean. Dean, this is my mother, Naomi.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ma’am,” Dean said with a pronounced twang in his voice. Castiel wanted to balk, or roll his eyes, but did neither. “Thank you for inviting me into your home.”

“Oh it was no bother. Castiel’s never had a friend to invite to one of our dinners,” Naomi said flippantly before checking over her shoulder. “I should go back to your father. Enjoy the hors d’oeuvres, Gabriel made them.”

Then she was gone and Castiel again was flushing in embarrassment. “Just so you know I did have friends.” After a beat he added, “and I helped Gabriel with the food.”

He felt Dean turn, then a strong hand was squeezing his shoulder. “Cas, man, stop. That was a dick move on her part. You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

“I’m not some loser,” Castiel mumbled.

To which Dean lifted his other hand and dropped it on Castiel’s other shoulder. He gave Castiel a little shake, and Castiel raised his gaze to lock with Deans. “I know, Cas.” Then added in Castiel’s head only, _“You don’t believe me yet, I know, but you are better than all of these people, Cas. You’re special.”_

Castiel smiled shyly and found he could answer without thinking at all. _“Thank_ _you,_ _Dean.”_

* * *

They were all seated around the table; Zachariah at the head, Naomi to his right and their friend Raphael to his left. Hester was next to Raphael, and Gabriel next to his mother. Castiel, like normal, was beside his brother but Dean opted to sit next to him instead of Hester. Between the families’ underhanded jabs at Castiel and Raphael’s thinly veiled attempts to woo his sister, it was more than a little awkward.

So when Dean excused himself to the restroom, nobody even noticed.

 _“Cas. How do I get to the office?”_ Castiel heard Dean ask through their connection.

Castiel dropped his hands into his lap to hide their shaking and answered, _“Take the stairs up to the second floor. It’s down the right hallway, second door on the left.”_

Dean stayed quiet and Castiel was able to resume his eating. He was barely halfway through his meal when Dean spoke again. _“I need your help.”_

Castiel barely controlled his knee-jerk reaction to the sudden spike in Dean’s anxiety. He didn’t know where it came from, but it was making his stomach feel like it was in knots. He took a sip of his wine to calm it. _“How? I can’t leave now. They’ll get suspicious.”_

 _“Just fuckin’ mind jump up here or something.”_ Dean sounded insistent.

 _“You know I can’t do that,”_ Castiel told him.

 _“Cas.”_ Dean’s voice had lost the edge. He seemed in total trust of Castiel. _“Just imagine the room I’m in. What it smells like, hears like. Imagine me in here. Not what I look like but how I feel like this. Follow this connection.”_

Castiel took a deep breath, and looked around the table. Everyone was ignoring him; if he was going to be somewhere else, so to speak, now would be the time. He looked down at his hands and focused on what Dean had said. He had spend much of his childhood in that office studying and doing school work, so visualizing it wasn’t hard. It took only a second more for him to imagine Dean there.

Castiel could have cried when he looked up and found himself in the office, looking at an anxious, but proud, Dean. “I fuckin’ told you, man. Something special.” Castiel couldn’t believe it. He had done it.

Being in two different places what an interesting experience. He could still hear the conversation in the dining room, and if he closed his eyes he could see it. It felt like he had two sets of limbs; he was able to continue eating with one, and reach out to Dean with the other. “How?”

Dean just smiled and gave his oddly corporeal shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll talk later. Now, I need you.”

Dean walked around the room and flipped back one of his father’s paintings to reveal a silver safe. “Cliche, I know. But I don’t have my gear to crack it and it’s one of those that alert the security company if I do the wrong combo.”

Castiel walked to his side and could understand where Dean’s nerves came from. He didn’t even know the safe existed, so if his father had something to hide it would be in there. “How many digits?”

“Four,” Dean said. “What do you think?”

“Try 69-61-79-66,” Castiel said. When Dean turned towards him with a sad but knowing look Castiel stared at his shoes, ashamed. “I was never one of his greatest accomplishments. Not worthy of much, even as a part of a combination.”

“Cas…” Dean started, but Castiel cut him off.

“Just do it, Dean,” he snapped, but not unkindly.

Dean did as Castiel told him, entering the numbers carefully. The only sounds in the room were the subtle ticks of the dial and their uneven breathing. When Dean put in the final number he took a deep breath, held it, and tried the handle.

The small door opened without resistance and Dean let out his breath. “Jackpot.”

Quickly he emptied the safe, being careful to leave it in its order, and set the papers on the clean desk. Castiel watched over the other man's shoulder as he flipped through the papers quickly but efficiently. Once he made it through the whole stack he handed it to Cas and told him to look every sheet over. Castiel raised an eye but at Dean’s insistence did as he was told. Only after he’d looked at them all did Dean put them back in the safe and lock it. He rubbed down the dial and handle with his shirtsleeve and did the same with the picture frame covering the safe.

“We did it, Cas,” Dean whispered with a relieved grin. “Now get back there. I’ll be down in a jiff.”

Castiel nodded and found himself back in the dining room between one breath and the next. A quick glance around told him that absolutely nobody noticed his mental absence. Much as his life usually goes. Less than a minute lated and Dean sauntered back into the room with an excuse about getting lost, which none of the other guests bat an eye at.

When Dean sits down he shoots Castiel a subtle wink and squeezes his knees under the table. And when his voice filtered into his mind he was expecting it, but he still smiled proudly. _“I told you you could do it.”_

* * *

After dessert and digestifs Dean and Castiel were able to make their retreat. They both smiled, and Dean thanked his hosts for a lovely evening. Gabriel gave his younger brother a strange look in lieu of a goodbye, and Castiel made a mental note to avoid the hospital for a while.

Castiel was dying to ask about the papers, but he was almost to exhausted to do so. As soon as he was out of his parents house he felt his entire day hit him like a freight train. When they finally pulled into Castiel’s apartment parking lot, he turned to Dean in the bench seat. He didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before Dean was silencing him with a hand on his knee. “Let’s just get upstairs, then we can talk.”

Castiel nodded; it made sense after all. They walked up the stairs together and once inside the apartment Dean guided Castiel towards his bed.

“Get to sleep, man. I’m gonna crash on the couch, then I’ll join you in there,” he said and tapped Castiel between the eyes. “It’ll be easier to talk there.”

Again, Castiel nodded. He slipped out of his sneakers, button up, and slacks before crawling under the sheets. There was a rustling as Dean did the same, then an opening and closing of the closet as he looked for bedding. By the time Dean was settling Castiel was already sound asleep.

Castiel found himself in a landscape of rolling hills, covered entirely in lavender blossoms. The ground was soft beneath Castiel’s feet and he began to walk just to feel more of it. Bee’s buzzed around him, forming shapes like clouds. The air smelled like clean laundry and Castiel inhaled it freely.

He knew it wasn’t one of his more impressive dreamscapes, but that’s what he loved about it. Sometimes it was nice to bask in simplicity.

Like the last couple of nights, his dreamscape welcomed Dean before Castiel even had a chance to see him. The bees, which had been jumping in the shape of a little rabbit, zoomed behind him, and he heard Dean shriek. He turned to see the little bees wrapping Dean in swirls; Castiel figured it was their equivalent of a hug.

“Their not gonna sting me, or something are they? Cause I think I’m allergic,” Dean said uncertainly as he swatted his hands around his face.

“You do realize this is a dream, right?” Castiel laughed. At Dean panicked look Castiel shook his head and whistled. En masse, the little bugs left Dean and congregated near Castiel’s feet in the shape of a miniature poodle.

“Cute,” Dean commented as he plopped down on his ass in the flowers. “You were really awesome tonight, man. Seriously.”

Castiel sat down across from him and pet his hand through the bees’ buzzing fur. “Thank you. Though I have no idea how I was able to do that.”

“I told you, man, you’re—” Dean started before Castiel interrupted him.

“Special. So you’ve said,” Castiel said. “That still doesn’t tell me how.”

Dean sighed and stared at the ground between them. Castiel felt a little tickle in his throat before a bright red poppy grew out of the earth. “It’s like this,” Dean said as he touched one of it’s soft petals with his fingertips. “This is your domain, right? What did you say? _Your dream, your world, your rules?_ And what you have in here? It’s powerful.”

“But what does that mean?” Castiel asked.

“Okay, take me. I have power out there, right? I can do things in the physical world, but when I try to manifest those there, I have to work at it. Doing this?” He asked as he pointed at the flower, “That shit’s hard. But you? You’re power in here is astounding. Could you make it rain, right now?”

Castiel nods and half a second later a mist-like rain is falling from the sky. Dean looks up at the cloudless sky and grins.

“See? I bet that took you less effort than fuckin' breathing. But doing that out there wouldn’t be so easy,” Dean explains.

“But that still doesn’t help me. How was I able do what I did earlier?” Castiel asked. He ran his fingers through his damp hair and grabbed a section, pulling just enough to feel.

“I think our powers recognize one another somehow. Like, you were able to use your crazy brain power and somehow channel that through my physical ones. That’s the best I can come up with," Dean said as he leaned back on his hands.

“What about my score?” Castiel found himself asking further.

“My best guess?" Dean said and Castiel nodded. “I just think it was hiddin’ in that noodle of yours.”

Castiel it all over as he blinked water out of his eyes. Then he shrugged. “Better than anything else I’ve heard, I guess.”

“Damn right it is, you rockstar,” Dean said with a saucy grin. “Now, can we get down to business?”

Castiel nodded. “What can I do to help?”

“Think you can take us somewhere we can look at those papers?” Dean asked.

“Of course,” Castiel replied. He closed his eyes. First the rain stopped and a warm whirlwind dried his and Dean’s clothes, then the lavender-covered ground dropped from beneath them. He heard Dean curse but paid it no mind. Around them he build a simple room with cement floors and clean white walls. It was similar to an art museum his parents had taken them to once for a fundraiser. Instead of art, he imagined the papers he had seen, and placed large copies of them on the walls. Only then did he open his eyes.

Dean was looking at him with something akin to awe. “Just fucking incredible.”

“Shut up,” Castiel groaned as he turned to the first paper. For only seeing it once, he was surprised by the amount of detail there. “I didn’t realize I saw this much of it.”

“Some of that’s me," Dean said as he took a step closer to the page. “Remember? Your the brains I’m the physical? I got an eidetic memory.”

Castiel hmm’d as he stepped up to Dean’s side. “What are we looking for?”

“Anything about Sammy, or the others he took, or anything hinky, really,” Dean told him as his eyes scanned the whole page.

Slowly the two made it through the first half of the pages, neither finding anything worthwhile. Suddenly Dean whistled, drawing Castiel’s attention. “I think I got something.”

Castiel walked to his side from where he had wandered and looked at the sheet. It looked like a printout of an email. He recognized his father’s private work email, but not the recipients. “What do you see?”

“Right here,” Dean said, pointing to a sentence in the middle.

Castiel read it and his eyebrows raised. “Why would my dad be emailing the secretary of defense?”

Dean looked just as concerned. “My thoughts exactly. And who the hell is Azazel and his special children?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me your thoughts! They mean the world to me and make me want to continue. Also I just want to take a moment to appreciate young Mark Sheppard. If nobody has seen him in the X-Files you should do that. I figured he deserved to have a cameo.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I can't thank you all enough for the support. I really like this story, and I hope I'm doing it justice for you all!
> 
> You may or may not have seen, but I've bumped our rating, just to be safe.

Castiel woke, well rested, to the smell of cinnamon and hot coffee. He stretched in bed, feeling his back give a satisfying crack. He could hear music playing faintly from his kitchen. Castiel slipped out of his bed and pulled on a blue terrycloth robe from his apartment floor. 

In his little studio it took no time at all for Castiel to cross the space to his kitchen. Dean was standing over the stove, pouring pancake batter into a sizzling pan. It smelled incredible. Castiel could feel his mouth water, but to distract himself until the food was ready he poured a cup of coffee into his favorite mug and hopped up to sit on a space bit of counter. 

Dean glanced over, catching Castiel’s eye over the rim of his mug and smiled. “Mornin’ Cas.”

“Good morning, Dean. I didn’t realize I had the ingredients for pancakes,” Castiel commented as he took a look at the, frankly, gorgeous looking golden pancakes. 

Dean barks a laugh. “You didn’t. I had a hankerin’ and popped next door and grabbed some stuff.” 

Castiel shook his head fondly. How was it that if anyone else used their psychic ability to steal from their neighbors it would have annoyed him, but with Dean it seemed almost endearing? Maybe it’s because, for some reason, Dean found Castiel endearing too. Dean didn’t think Castiel was some kind of freak. He thought Castiel was _special_. 

Last night, Dean said that Castiel used their connection to channel his abilities. Castiel didn’t even know that was possible. At dinner he had been running on instinct only. It made him wonder if he could learn to control this, like he does his dreams. 

First Castiel sat down his coffee mug, not knowing what his powers would do. Then, he closed his eyes. With a number of deep breaths he focused his thoughts internally. He had no idea what he was looking for, but assumed he’d know it when he found it. All of a sudden, he felt something. It was like the slack end of a leash but warmer, softer. He though about grabbing it, and the warmth traveled up a incorporeal arm, right into his chest. He opened his eyes, and Dean was looking right at him. Castiel directed the warm, unreal arm towards the pan on the stove and thought about flipping the pancakes…

And the pancake flipped. 

It turned once in the air, landing golden side up in the hot pan. 

Castiel can’t believe it. Without thinking he reached out and grabbed the collar of Dean’s t-shirt and pulled him in, kissing him hard on the mouth. It’s the first kiss he’s initiated, and it felt different from all the rest. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, and could feel where Dean clutched at his waist. His tongue breached Dean mouth, taking control. Castiel wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, pulling him in closer. 

Dean groaned into Castiel’s mouth and his hands slipped down to where Castiel’s ass rests on the tile and pulled him in closer. Then he slipped his palms under and lifted Castiel off the counter. 

His eyes were closed, but that warm tether told him exactly where they are. Dean dropped him down on his bed, still messy from the night before, and then crawled over him on all four. “Do something else,” Dean whispered as he cradled Castiel’s face between his two palms. 

Castiel nodded and closed his eyes. The first thing that came to mind was the beach. He remembered going to this tiny little island once, on a family vacation. He didn’t want to try going there, yet, but maybe he could try and alter their perception. He felt for that warmth and used it to paint the room around them with blue skies, soft sand, and even the caws of seagulls. He heard Dean’s intake of breath, and only then did he open his eyes. 

They were still lying on his bed, but instead of being in his dismal studio, they were sitting in the middle of a small deserted island. He could even smell the saltwater. 

“ _Holy shit_ ,” Dean whispered as he looked around. “Cas this is, _wow_. I’ve never been to the beach before. Are we really…?”

“No,” Castiel said as he, too, looked around. “I wanted to see is I could just make us see something different.”

“Hold on. I’ll be right back,” Dean said quickly. He kissed Castiel once more firmly on the mouth and slid off the bed. His feet it the ground and he looked up, smiling. “It feels real but I can still feel the hardwood. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Castiel leaned up on his elbows and watched as Dean bent to pick up a handful of sand. He shook his hand, letting the sand run through his fingertips, but it disappeared before it could hit the ground. 

“You," Dean said as he stalked back to the bed. He crawled up over Castiel's body and pressed an open mouth to his sternum, “Are,” then again to his throat, “Fucking,” and finally on his lips, “Incredible.” 

For once, Castiel didn’t object. Whatever he was doing now felt pretty incredible. 

Dean took control of the kiss, exploring Castiel’s mouth while the artificial ocean breeze blew their hair around. 

They kissed for what felt like hours, until there was a knock at the door. Dean looked down at Castiel, asking him silently if he was expecting anyone. Castiel shook his head no and with the movement erased their surroundings like an Etch-a-Sketch. Once the apartment was back to normal Dean crawled off Castiel, awkwardly rearranging himself in his pants. Castiel flushed, but realized quickly that he had to do the same. They shared a coy look just as the knock came again. 

“Hello-o? Anybody in there?” Gabriel called from the hallway. 

Castiel gave himself one final look over before pulling open his apartment door. His brother cocked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing beyond, “you busy?”

Castiel can hear Dean back in the kitchen, likely resuming his breakfast making. “A little,” Castiel answers truthfully. “Why?”

Gabriel looked over his brothers shoulder into the apartment, spotting Dean most likely. “Hospital called. We have an all hands on deck situation goin’ on. Guess that means you too. Get dressed, then we can go.”

“Fine,” Castiel said. Because as much as he wants to get back in his bed with Dean, he would never leave people to worry about the fate of their loved ones. He reluctantly allows his brother to follow him into his room, knowing that as soon as he goes to his closet Gabriel will go harass Dean. 

He got dressed as quickly as he could manage, in a pair of jeans and an old long sleeve t-shirt with holes in the sleeves for his thumbs. He slips his feet into a pair of chucks and ties them efficiently. He can still hear the two in the kitchen, but their words are mumbled. Gabriel’s doing, most likely. If he wanted to he imagined he could listen to them through Dean, but he’s surprisingly tired after his beach extravaganza. 

Castiel stood at the opening of the kitchen and waited until he had his brothers attention. “I’m ready when you are,” he told him. Gabriel nodded and shot a glare at Dean, who just smiled then winked at Castiel. “Will you be here when I get back?” Castiel asked Dean, who nodded. 

 _“I have to call come people, boring stuff. But you better believe I’ll be thinking about what we started,”_ Dean said, for Castiel’s ears only, making him blush. 

“Okay, whatever this is is weird,” Gabriel remarked. 

Before he could say more Castiel pushed his brother out of the apartment, leaving Dean inside.

* * *

 

Dean watched as the door shut behind Cas and his annoying as fuck brother.

The morning had been a whirlwind; from worrying about Sam, to watching Cas flip that damn flapjack, to kissing Cas (like really _kissing_ Cas). Man, Dean gets a little tingly just thinking about that kiss. To say he’d been attracted to the guy from the start would be a vast understatement. There were so many moments that first night when could have creamed his pants from the raw, sexy _power_ that Cas exuded. 

And he knew from the jump that Cas was into him too. He figured that would make his life easier. He’d flirt a little, Cas would tell him what he needed, and he could get his brother back. No harm, no foul. But then he had to go and get to know the kid. 

Castiel was astounding. He was smart, and compassionate, and resilient (if his families attitude toward him meant anything), and just so damn _good_ that Dean just wanted to soak it up. 

The dreams didn’t help either. That night in the forest was just _wow_. Dean had caught the barest glimpse of Cas’ perky little ass and was instantly stiff. And slipping into that charged water with a woody? Dean was just glad he didn’t come right then right there. 

His power, too. Dean wasn’t lying when he said Cas was special. He’s been breaking into people’s skulls since he was a teen, and never had he had to work so hard for so little before. Cas had just absorbed his power like a sponge without him even knowing it. That first night Dean had woken up with a pounding headache and droopy eyelids, and still all he wanted to do was go back. It was like a drug. 

He thought about the kiss again and could barely contain the rush of arousal that coursed through him. _God,_ he just wanted to do it again and again and again and…

Dean’s phone rang, thankfully saving him from doing something embarrassing like jacking off in another guys bed. He pulled the trilling thing from his pocket, reading Charlie’s name across the screen. “What’s up?”

“Interesting night?” Charlie joked with a smile in her voice. Dean sometimes hated that she knew him so well she could glean so much from just two words.

“You could say that. Where are you?” Dean said as he went back to the kitchen to pour himself a mug of coffee. He caught sight of the counter that he had, not an hour ago, kissed Cas against and he had to turn away to stop that train of thought. 

“I’m close. You at the kid’s place?” She asked. Dean grunted in the affirmative. “Can I come over?”

“Hold on, let me ask.” Dean put the phone down and sent Cas the silent question. _“Hey, man. My friend needs to talk to me. Can she come here?”_

Dean could hear Charlie yelling through the phone while he waited for Cas’ reply. It didn’t take long before he heard, _“of course, Dean,”_ in his head like church bells. “Cas is cool with it. Come on over.”

Charlie huffed on her end of the phone. “Don’t think were not going to talk about whatever that was, Winchester. I’ll be there in five.”

Dean hung up the phone and shoved it in his pocket. He busied himself with cleaning the kitchen and not thinking about Cas while he waited for his friend. Like she said, exactly five minutes after the phone call had ended there was another knock at the door. Dean opened it and let his best friend into the apartment. 

Charlie flew past him in a flurry of red hair, dumping her laptop bag on Cas’ bed before rounding on Dean. She stared at him, giving him serious elevator eyes, which made Dean more than an little uncomfortable. Then she cocked her head and raised a brow. “Did you sleep with him?”

Dean flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “No, Charlie, God.”

“But you wanted to, didn’t you?” Charlie said with a little bit more of a smirk on her face. When Dean didn’t deny it she laughed and launched herself at him. She hugged him around his middle, grinning into his stomach. “Oh this is too good! I knew this was going to happen!”

“You did not. Shut up,” Dean groaned even though he was smiling too. 

“Did too. My visions never lie. I knew there was gonna be something different about this one,” Charlie said as she pulled away. “But I know! No chick-flick moments, right? Let’s get to work.”

Together Charlie and Dean set up her laptop and other equipment. By the time they were done Cas’ entire living room looked like the backroom of a RadioShack. Dean left her to set up the final touched and wandered into the kitchen to brew another pot of coffee. While he waited for it to brew he allowed himself to be optimistic for the first time since Sam disappeared. Thanks to Cas they had a lead, a real honest to God lead, and Charlie would help them make the most of it. 

“Dean? Wanna bring me a cup of that?” Charlie yelled, all too loudly for the size of the place, from the couch. 

“Comin’ up, your highness!” Dean yelled back with a grin. He poured two fresh mugs and brought one into his friend. 

“So… tell me about it. Don’t spare any details,” Charlie gushed as soon as had the warm cup in her hands. 

And, God help him, Dean did. He gushed about the night before. He tried to talk just about the business of it at first, but somehow he got talking about the Parishs’ and that got him talking about Cas and that got him talking about the dreams. Thankfully he was able to stop himself before he spilled the beans on the kiss. Unfortunately, he could tell he didn’t have to. Charlie had a way of just knowing everything about him, and it wasn’t just psychic stuff. She had premonitions sometimes, but that was it. She couldn't read minds, she could just read him. 

“So Cas is super dreamy and you wanna jump on his disco stick, I get it. But let's table that for now and talk about the boring stuff.” Charlie pulled her laptop into her lap and began typing, her finger flying over the keys. “You said something about a guy named Azazel?”

“Yeah. Daddy Parish was emailing the secretary of defense about him. Do you know who he is?” Dean asked as he sipped at his coffee. 

“Not yet,” Charlie mumbled. She was typing rapidly with her right had as she lifted her coffee to her lips with the left. 

They passed some time like this; with Charlie typing and Dean drinking. After what seemed like forever Charle let out a loud, “Aha!” Dean jumped so high he though he was going to bust through the ceiling. “Holy shit!” Charlie swore as she squinted at the screen. 

“What?” Dean asked as he tried to see what she was seeing. 

“Dude. This is bad,” Charlie said as she lifted a hand to bite at her fingernails. “Azazel is bad news. Like Voldemort bad. Oh man.”

“Charlie! Just tell me,” Dean said sharply. 

“Okay, okay. So, Azazel is this head honcho at Roman Enterprises. People know Roman mostly for property management and junk food, but they also deal in weapons manufacturing,” Charlie said quickly. 

“Let me guess, Azazel doesn’t work in property management?” Dean said dryly in return. 

“Nope. Doesn't work in junk food either.” Charlie was biting at her other hand now, having already worked her first hand down to the quick.

“Shit,” Dean groaned as he got up to pace. “So let me get this straight. Cas’ dad gets told about the super-psychics and when they don't cooperate he and the secretary of defense abduct them and ship them off to Azazel who uses them to create weapons? How do you even make weapons out of psychics?”

“No way fun, I imagine,” Charlie mumbled which earned her a glare from Dean. “Sorry, sorry.”

“We gotta get Sam outta there,” Dean said as he raked his hands through his hair. “Fuck.”

Dean mumbled an excuse about making more coffee, if only so he could be alone for a moment. He could feel tears prickle at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He needed to be strong, so he could get Sam back. There wasn’t another option. 

 _“Dean?”_ Cas’ voice cut through his panic like a chainsaw. _“Are you alright?”_

Dean would laugh if he wasn’t afraid that would make him cry. _“Pretty far from alright.”_

There was a tension in the air, like the moment right before lightning strikes and then Cas was with him in the kitchen. His hair was mused and he looked worried. “You catch on quick,” Dean remarked with a wry smile. 

“I had a good teacher,” Castiel said with a smile of his own. “What’s wrong Dean? I could tells something was wrong when I was in another person’s dream.”

A large part of Dean was warmed by the fact that Cas cared enough about him to check to make sure he was okay. Only Sam and Charlie had ever done that for him. “It’s Sam. Charlie and I know where he is, we think, and it ain’t good.”

“Where is he?” Castle asked as he pushed Dean into one of the kitchen chairs. 

“Uh, that guy? Azazel? He works for Roman Enterprises. They make weapons. We think that’s why their taking people like Sam,” Dean explained. With every word he could feel his heart sinking just a little bit more. Dean didn’t want to think about what he would do without his little brother. 

“Dean,” Cas said as he pulled up a chair right next to Dean. He took a seat, pressing until they were flush together. “We will get Sam back. I promise you that.” Cas used a palm against Dean’s cheek to turn his head so they were eye to eye. “Do you believe me?”

Did Dean believe him? He barely knew Cas. But still Castiel had shared his sacred dreams with Dean, and that felt like something important. And he though he knew enough about Cas to know that he wasn’t a lier. “Yeah, Cas. I believe you.”

“Good,” Cas said. Then he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Dean’s. Like before his mouth was hot and malleable, but it felt entirely different too. Like if Dean pushed too hard he would go right through him. Still, it was one of the best feelings of Dean’s life. 

It took very little coaxing on Dean’s part to convince Castiel to climb into his lap. Dean moaned at the ghost of pressure against his crotch and thrust up. He tangled his hands in Cas’ hair and pulled. Cas’ tongue licked into his mouth and ran along the roof, making Dean shiver. He thrust down, until their lengths were pressed together. 

“Jesus, fuck, Cas,” Dean groaned as he ran his right hand down from Cas’ hair to his ass, where he grabbed the muscle and squeezed. Cas took that to mean he should continue, so he did so, thrusting against Dean until they were both aching. Dean was seconds from blowing his load in his pants when he heard a startled yelp and a crash from behind him. 

Cas broke their kiss and in a flash disappeared. Dean moaned at the loss of pressure on his cock and slumped back in his chair. “You couldn’t have given me one more goddamn minute?” 

“Sorry,” Charlie mumbled. I thought you were on the phone or something. I didn’t realize you were, uh, _not_ on the phone.” 

There was another shift in pressure and Cas was back, though he staggered and had a bloody nose. “Cas!” Dean said as soon as he caught sight of him. 

Charlie looked around wildly. “Cas? Is he here? Is he okay?”

“It’s nothing. I was startled, and pulled back to quickly. I fell out of my chair and hit my face on a table,” Cas explained. “I assure you Gabriel is enjoying himself at my expense.”

Without meaning to Dean started to chuckle. “Real smooth there, buddy.”

“What’s going on? What is he saying?” Charlie asked as she wrung her hands, over and over. 

“He’s fine, just didn’t stick the landing on the other side,” Dean said to his friend. Then he turned back to Cas. “When are you done over there?”

“Just another hour or so,” Cas said. 

Dean nodded. “Okay. Got it. Hopefully by then we’ll have a plan.”

“I have a plan,” Cas said pragmatically. “We’re going to break into Roman Enterprises.”


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel wasn't usually a person who got distracted easily. He took pride in his work and was determined to show the hospital staff, and his family, that what he did mattered. And to do that he used the upmost focus to provide the best care for the patients. Nobody could say he didn’t help when he continually proved that he _did_. 

But after leaving Dean in his apartment he discovered that, yes, he could be distracted. Luckily for the majority of the day he was able to work mostly on his own, where nobody was privy to his absentmindedness. It just so happened that the one time he was forced to work with his brother he felt Dean’s anguish to acutely that he was forced to leave his patient’s dream to visit Dean. Which led to not only a bloody nose, but also an awkward psychic boner and an even more suspicious brother. 

“What’s up with you?” Gabriel asked as he watched Castiel pack a rolled up tissue into his steadily dripping nose. 

Castiel nearly missed the question, since his attention was on his conversation with Dean instead, but he was able to pop back just in time to reply. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, something’s up with you, and I want to know what.” Gabriel explained. Across the room one of his doubles was checking on the patient while giving Castiel a stink eye. It was extremely disconcerting. 

“It’s nothing Gabriel, really,” Castiel told his brother. He was rapidly getting a tension headache from trying to hold two conversations at the same time. Back in his apartment he gave Dean a final kiss and said, _“We’ll talk about this more when I get home.”_  

Castiel watched as his brother tilted his head and squinted, just before his headache went from small to splitting. His brother had never tried this hard to get into Castiel’s head before, and he wasn’t about to allow it now. Not when so much was at stake. 

“Stop!” Castiel barked. He found that golden tether and, quick like a whip, snapped it at his brother. The energy and rage that always seemed to simmer below the surface when it came to Castiel’s family, bubbled over like boiling water in a pot, and slammed into Gabriel’s chest. It sent him tumbling over and back, sliding on his ass, until his back slammed into the opposite wall. 

The two Parish’s froze, Castiel with something like fear, because he had never intentionally harmed anyone in his family. Too shocked to explain his own actions, Castiel did the only thing that made sense. 

He bolted out of the room, ignoring his brother, who didn’t stop calling his name. Castiel ran from the hospital, from his job and responsibilities, and towards the only thing that made sense. The few blocks between the apartment and his home passed like nothing below Castiel’s racing feet, and in no time he was crashing into his apartment, startling both Dean and the redhead into falling off his couch. 

“Cas?” Dean asked once he managed to stand. He took in Castiel’s wild expression, and rushed to his side. “What the hell happened?” 

“I attacked Gabriel,” Castiel explained in a rush. “He was trying to read my mind and I got so mad. I used our connection, and pushed him away. I’ve never done that before.”

Only then did Castiel realize he was shaking. Dean must have realized it too, because he immediately pulled Castiel to his chest, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s shoulders. Castiel’s own ended up wrapped around Dean’s waste, with his hands clutching at Dean’s t-shirt. 

“It’s alright,” Dean whispered. “Let’s sit. Charlie’ll get you some juice, or something, okay?”

Castiel nodded and allowed Dean to lead him towards his couch, just as the redhead hopped up and escaped towards the kitchen. What felt like only seconds later, a glass of orange juice was pressed into his hands, and he sipped at it carefully. “Thank you,” he told them both sincerely. 

“No problem, kid,” Dean said with a wink. He was trying to get a smile out of Cas, and succeeding. Cas felt the corners of his hips turn up, just a little, as he sipped at the sweet drink in his hands. 

“Not a kid, Dean,” he mumbled. 

“You okay?” Dean asked. 

Cas took another sip of juice. “Yes. But I imaging Gabriel will be here soon demanding an explanation. What do I tell him?”

Dean slipped a hand onto Cas’ knee and gave it a firm squeeze. “You tell him whatever you want. Charlie and I are behind you no matter what.” Behind Dean, Charlie was nodding along. 

“Until then,” Castiel said as he set aside his now empty glass, “I believe we should talk Roman Enterprises.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait till you’ve worked things out with your brother?” Dean asked sincerely. Cas appreciated it, but could sense Dean’s need to find his brother growing stronger with every minute. 

“I’m sure. Have you been able to find anything out?” Cas said, focusing his question on Charlie, who had dragged one of his kitchen chairs closer to the couch. 

“Not much,” she said sadly. “I’ve been able to find basic floor plans, but I mean _basic_. Like, I know where doors are, but no way to tell what’s behind them or anything. I don’t even know which building he’d be stashing Sam and the others.”

Charlie had pulled a sleek laptop into her lap while she spoke, then turned it around so Castiel and Dean could see what she was looking at. Castiel didn’t know much about building plans, but it looked like Charlie was right. 

“Who would know that kind of stuff?” Castiel wondered as he looked at the screen. 

“Security guards, maybe? Scientists?” Dean offered. He was staring at the screen despondently,  and Castiel wished he could ease his suffering somehow. 

Castiel stood and began to pace his small studio. One wall to the other, and back again. Surely, they could figure this out; use their strengths to their advantage. He thought back to how he and Dean met in the first place and paused. “Could you find them? The people who might know where Roman would hide Sam and the other psychics?”

“Probably?” Charlie said hesitantly, though her fingers were already moving over the keyboard. 

“What’s your play, Cas?” Dean asked. He seemed hesitantly hopeful, which was already an improvement from the earlier melancholy. 

“Dean, you broke into my head to try and find out what I knew. I’m suggestion you do that again, but this time you take me with you. With the two of us, I don’t think anyone could keep us out.” Castiel watched as Dean mulled over his idea, before the older man grinned and jumped from the couch to pull Cas into another backbreaking hug. 

“You’re a goddamn genius,” Dean laughed, and planted a warm kiss on Castiel’s stunned mouth. “Charlie, get someone as close to the top as you can. Cas is right, with the two of us, they won’t know what hit them.”

Their celebration was cut short when Charlie looked up suddenly, her eyes going cloudy. Castiel recognized the look as the one his father wore when he had a vision. Dean rushed to her side, ready to help her once she came out of it. She did with a gasp, and fell forward into Dean’s waiting arms. “Cas, Gabriel’s coming. And he's pissed.”

Dean’s eyes found Cas’. His expression was open, but his eyes were worried. “Do you want us to split?” 

Castiel shook his head. “No. I… Maybe I should tell him the truth. He could be useful to our cause.”

“Can he be trusted?” Dean asked. 

“I think so. And if not, I’m sure I can figure something out,” Cas said. He watched Dean’s face, waiting for him to argue, but he didn’t. 

He just nodded and smiled. “I’m behind you, man.”

Not a minute later there was a pounding at the door. Dean and Charlie had moved to sit side by side at the couch, while Cas stood, waiting for his brother’s arrival. He took a deep breath and pulled open the door. 

Gabriel, his normally cool and collected brother, was glaring so hard Castiel swore his head pounded. Without waiting for an invitation, he pushed past his younger brother and into the apartment. He barely afforded Dean and Charlie a glance before spinning and piercing Castiel with another stare, this time accompanied by crossed arms and firmly planted feet. 

“What the hell, Castiel.” Gabriel spoke softly. 

Castiel closed and locked the door, and approached his brother with both hands raised. “I can explain.”

Gabriel scoffed, as if to lighten the mood, but his posture and stare never wavered. “Yeah, I’d like that. How exactly were you able to throw me back with enough power to crack plaster? Huh? I’m pretty sure you’ve never had enough brainpower to wiggle a blade of grass.”

Still, after finding out what he can do, Gabriel’s insults still make him want to crumble. He was torn between the age old desire to accept the harsh remarks and the newer need to prove himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean move to jump in, only held back by Charlie’s surprisingly strong grip. Dean’s words of encouragement flooded him, and gave him the strength to do what he’s never done before. 

“I’m not weak like you think I am,” Castiel told his brother, in a voice he’s never heard come out of his own mouth. “Just because my number isn’t high like yours doesn’t mean I can’t do great things.”

Gabriel laughed. “Yeah? Prove it.”

Castiel turned towards Dean, seeking affirmation. Dean had a smirk on his face and he nodded in approval. Castiel turned back towards his brother, and refused to lose eye contact. 

He reached in his mind for that golden thread, and felt it hum proudly. He focused on that wonderful energy and began to change the room. Like earlier, he didn’t move them, instead just changed the way they saw what’s around them. First the walls went, melting away to reveal blue sky with rough rock in the far distance. Then the floor shifted to red rock, and pieces fell until only small sections of ground beneath Castiel, Gabriel and the couch remained. The air changed. What was once a stuffy apartment now had a desert sun above, pressing in on them with a dry heat. Above them a hawk circled and cawed. 

Castiel looked down at the square foot of rock he’s standing on. He kicked a pebble off the edge and heard only silence until it splashed into a river far below. He smiled, and looked up. Gabriel stood, mouth dropped open as he took in the world them. His face showed many emotions Castiel had never seen before. Fear, jealousy, and pride fighting for dominance. 

“How are you doing this?” He knelt down slowly, and pressed his hand into the open space around his piece of rock. Castiel could see the moment he expected to feel nothing, but touched the floor instead. 

Just to give his brother another thrill, Castiel called the bird to him with a sharp whistle. The hawk cawed in return and swooped down to land on Castiel’s shoulder. The bird flapped it’s wings and rubbed it’s head against Castiel’s cheek before launching itself right at Gabriel’s chest, exploding into a ball of feathers right before impact. 

Dean chuckled, and Castiel grinned at the praise. “Dean’s been helping me realize my potential. This,” he said as he gestured around them, “is something I’ve always been capable in my own mind, but I never thought I could conjure anything out here in the real world. I was wrong.”

“Why now?” Gabriel asked as he picked up one of the feathers left behind, marveling at how real it felt between his fingers. 

“Dean needs my help, and I’m giving it to him. But I needed to be stronger, so he’s helping me,” Castiel explained. He used his right hands to wipe away the world around them, until it was just his apartment again. 

Gabriel, who was no longer glaring, looked at Castiel with worry. “Cassie, Are you in trouble?”

Castiel was taken aback by his brother’s concern, but refused to show it. “Nothing that I am not willing to face.”

“Tell me what I can do to help,” Gabriel said quietly. A hush fell over the room. Castiel wasn’t willing to give Gabriel the answers that his brother no doubt wanted, not without knowing that his intentions were true. Castiel didn’t think that his brother knew about whatever it is that their father was doing. No, he was just worried that in the end Gabriel would end up doing what was best for Gabriel, leaving Castiel and Dean in the wind. 

“I need to know that I can trust you,” Castiel said finally. He walked to the small dining area and dragged over another rickety kitchen chair, setting it up directly opposite the one Charlie had brought over earlier. “Sit,” he instructed, pointing at the new chair. 

Gabriel looks affronted, but complied. “Trust me? Of course you can trust me, Cassie, I’m your brother!” He crossed his arms petulantly. 

Castiel shook his head sadly. “Gabriel. I haven’t felt like your brother since I was ten years old. Not really. I’ve just felt like extra baggage.” Castiel didn’t spare his brother another look as he stepped in front of where Dean sat on the couch. “I need you to look in his mind, and tell me if I can trust him. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, Cas. You sure about this?” Dean asked as he stood and placed a comforting hand on Cas’ shoulder. Castiel could only nod. He’d been more truthful with his brother in the last half an hour than he had been his entire life, and it left him feeling a little flayed. Dean must have understood his pain, maybe he felt it through their bond, because he didn’t say another word. He just pressed a simple, comforting kiss to Castiel’s temple and walked around him to sit in the empty chair opposite Gabriel. 

The elder Parish looked nearly as emotionally wiped as Castiel, but hid it when he realized the attention was back on him. 

Dean scooted his chair forward until his knees were barely an inch away from Gabriel’s and reached out his hands. “Don’t try to fight me on this,” he warned. “Only one person’s ever been able to keep me out, and he’s a hell of a lot stronger than you.” Dean looked over at Cas and winked, before grasping Gabriel’s hands.

Gabriel looked like the wanted to resist. His brow was furrowed, and he was trying to get as far away as his chair would allow. Then, without warning, he just submitted. He slumped forward in his seat, his head falling to where Dean’s hands held his. Dean, for whatever effort he put into breaking into Gabriel’s subconscious, looked calm and collected. Castiel could even make out a little smile on his face. 

He was about to offer Charlie a fresh cup of coffee when Gabriel came to with a start, yanking his hands out of Dean’s hold. “Happy now?” He barked at Dean’s bemused face. “Holy Hell. I thought I was strong. _Jesus_. Someone was powerful enough to resist that?”

Dean leaned back, pleased, and crossed his legs so his right ankle rested comfortably on his left knee. “Yeah. Cas.” He turned to give Castiel a smile and added. “He’s kosher, by the way. Intentions as pure as Sammy on prom night.”

“Good. Okay, then.” Castiel stood and addressed the room at large. “I’m starving. I think it’s about time we get dinner. Everyone okay with burgers?”

* * *

‘Delphine’s’ was Castiel’s favorite diner. It was just around the corner from his apartment, and made the best burger in the city. Castiel led the group there silently. Mostly because he didn’t know how else to ignore his brother’s impressed yet unbelieving looks. He pushed open the door, waving to the man behind the corner, and walked directly to the table in the back corner. Not only was it his favorite table, but it was the quietest, making it the best for them to have a serious conversation. 

Cas let Dean slide into one side of the booth, before sliding in after him. Across from them, Gabriel took the inside seat, and Charlie the outer. Gabriel opened his mouth, but Castiel silenced him with a severe look just as the waiter approached their table. 

“Well, Castiel,” he said in a smooth British accent, “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“No, Felix,” Castiel said with a grin. “Just busy. Think we could start with some coffee?”

“Comin' right up, luv,” Felix said as he sauntered off towards the coffee pot. 

Castiel could feel three pairs of eyes on him and he shrugged. “He’s just friendly.” Under the table Dean squeezed his knee before moving his arm so it draped over the back of the booth seat. 

Felix dropped off their coffee and took their orders, flirting only enough to make Dean chuckle. Only once he was back in the kitchen, and Castiel knew they would have some time to talk, did he turn towards his brother. “Dean’s brother’s been taken. That’s why he came to me. It’s Dad. Somehow he’s finding people with high scores and kidnapping them. Then handing them over to Roman Enterprises, where a man named Azazel uses them to create weapons.” He looked at his brother’s stunned face and added. “You wanted to know. Now you know.”

“Holy shit, Cassie. Are you sure?” Gabriel asked. He took a sip of his coffee before adding cream and heaps of sugar, which meant that he really only had attention for his brother. 

“Positive. We found information about it in Dad’s safe.” Castiel took a sip of his own coffee, wondering if his brother would put the pieces together. 

He did, slamming down his cup and pointing a finger between Castiel and Dean. “The party? That’s why he was there? You guys _broke_ into _Dad’s safe_ with him in the _goddamn_ house?”

“It was our only chance and we took it,” Castiel said simply. 

“Okay, so let’s say I believe you. What is your plan exactly?” Gabriel asked, calming down enough to add cream sugar to his coffee. 

“We break in and find Sam and the others,” Dean told him. 

Gabriel scoffed. “You and what army, pal? I got a feeling this Roman Enterprises place is guarded up the wazoo. And I got a feeling you can probably throw down, but what about Red? And there’s no way my bro can.”

“Oh, I’m not going. I, uh, “stay in the van,” so to speak,” Charlie cut in. 

“Great, so just you and my brother then?” Gabriel snarked. “Lotta good that’ll do you.”

Dean straightened up threateningly in his seat, leveling Gabriel with a glare that would move mountains. “You listen to me, you bag of dicks. We brought you in because Cas said we could. If it were up to me, I woulda knocked up out and scrambled your brain myself. So you need to stop insulting him, or I might just start getting creative. Understand?”

Gabriel held his glare petulantly, before deflating. “Yeah, alright. Sorry.”

“You don’t gotta apologize to me,” Dean said, voice still hard as granite.

Gabriel dragged his gaze towards his little brother, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Cassie.”

Castiel nodded, once, before Dean squeezed his shoulder and grinned. “Anyway, all Cas needs it a little training, and I’m sure he could get in there all by himself. Kid’s sharp as a whip, no doubt about that. And as top of your class, I was hoping you’d be wiling to help. What do you say?”

“I say, why the hell not? Sounds like fun,” Gabriel said with a tight, but promising, grin. 

Felix arrived just in time to drop off the four burgers, and give Cas a final wink, before flouncing back towards the kitchen. By mutual, unspoken agreement, the four dropped conversations about missing brothers, and psychic powers. Instead they sat together and ate their burgers. Castiel was tense, he figured he always would be around his family, but the comforting weight of Dean’s arm around his shoulders seemed to lessen it somehow. Like he was gently releasing the pressure around his heart, and Castiel felt nearly content. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've gotten a little obsessed with _Orphan Black_. In case you couldn't tell. Anyone who hasn't seen it should. Right away.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So I am the worst writer ever. Between school stress, then election stress, then more school stress, writing has been a bitch and a half. But I sat myself down today and swore I would put something out there. And you know what? I really like this chapter. Let me know what you think! 
> 
> You may also notice that I changed the rating. Just so you know. 
> 
> ;)

Castiel refused to question how Dean knew exactly where to find an abandoned warehouse.

Gabriel, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to do just that. Thankfully, and miraculously, a glare from Castiel halted his tongue.

The warehouse Dean drove them to was on the outskirts of town. It was large, and covered in graffiti of every color. Castiel thought it was beautiful, in a broken kind of way. Dean pulled around the side of the building and right to an old garage door. He slowed the car to a stop and reached out the open drivers’ side window with his left hand. As he moved his hand up slowly, the door creaked and moved up as well. Once the door was opened fully, Dean shot Castiel a wink and drove forward.

The inside of the warehouse was cleaner than Castiel expected. He stepped out of the car and watched as the overhead lights kicked on, one by one. At first he thought it was another of Dean’s tricks, until he saw Charlie flipping switches in a large metal box on the wall.

Dean approached Castiel’s side and pulled him away from the other two, just enough to ensure a modicum of privacy. “You ready for this, Cas? If you aren’t, you just gotta tell me.”

Castiel smiled at Dean’s concern. “Yes, Dean. I’m more than ready.”

“Alrighty!” Dean said with a grin. He smacked his hands together, drawing Charlie and Gabriel’s attention. “Let’s get this party started!”

The group congregated in the middle of the warehouse and Dean cleared his throat. “So, this is what I’m thinkin' needs to happen. We need to focus on two things. First, hand to hand. Gotta be able to throw a punch. Second is our bond. We need to see how far we can take it. You two,” he said to Gabriel and Charlie, “Just… hang out, I guess?”

Charlie rolled her eyes and tossed a lazy salute to the group. Gabriel looked less than pleased, but stayed suspiciously quiet.

“Cas, think you can whammy them a place to relax while I get us set up with a place to work?” Dean asked.

Castiel nodded and reached for the bond. It came much quicker than normal, which filled his heart with hope. He used the golden energy to conjure two cushy looking La-z-boys, which Charlie and Gabriel didn’t hesitate to drop into. Once Castiel was satisfied with his work he turned to see what Dean accomplished.

The warehouse now looked more like a gym than the metal shell it was before. The floor was covered in red, padded mats. There was a hanging punching bag with a pair of gloves resting on the ground below. Dean was standing nearby it, wrapping his hands in black fabric. His clothes were different as well. His jeans had changed into black basketball shorts that showed off his muscular calves and bowed thighs. Dean caught Castiel staring and struck a pose. “You ready for this?”

Castiel nodded and used a sliver more of their connection to change his own clothes to match Dean’s. “Now I am.”

Dean beckoned him over and began running him through a simple warm up. They stretched and ran around the warehouse a couple times to get their hearts pumping. Once they were both adequately ready, Dean moved on.

They worked their way through a number of tests, each used to determine Castiel’s physical strengths and weaknesses. When found that while Castiel was quick, he lacked the brute strength required for fighting, though Dean seemed confident that it wouldn’t take long for him to get there.

The next hour was used to prove that point. Dean had helped Castiel wrap his hands in fabric, and the two practiced easy hand to hand combat. It had looked like a lost cause until Dean goaded Castiel into adding a little psychic oomph. The punch had Dean stumbling back several feet and rubbing the spot on his chest that was already beginning to bruise.

“Sorry!” Castiel apologized quickly, racing to Dean’s side.

“’S’alright, Cas,” Dean reassured him with a cocky grin. “Sometimes I like gettin’ a little roughed up.”

Castiel dipped his head and blushed while Gabriel pipped in for the first time with a loud, “Booo!”

Castiel had tried, throughout the day, to not focus on Dean’s looks. He thought it would be detrimental to his focus. So when he glanced up, it felt like he was seeing Dean for the first time. His thin t-shirt was soaked with sweat, especially around his armpits and the center of his chest. His face was flushed and shining, hair spiked with adrenalin. He was smiling, and what’s more, he was smiling at _Cas_.

With a few crooked fingers he beckoned Castiel forward, pulling his hands up and into a fighting stance. “Ready to add a little more?” Dean asked as he bounced on the balls of his feet. Castiel nodded and Dean added, “You familiar with bilocation?”

Castiel glanced at Gabriel quickly. “You could say that.” The truth was, Castiel had been desperate to learn that particular trick ever since Gabriel did. It had always seemed like his own personal golden ring. Being able to master something like that would prove to everyone that he was just as capable as Gabriel, and it could also knock his brother off his high horse.

Either Dean could just read him that well, or Castiel was projecting, because Dean seemed to know exactly what was going through his head. “Wanna give it a shot?” Castiel nodded again. “Awesome. So basically? It’s just like when you travelled at the party, but you can’t use me as a tether. If you do, whoever you’re trying to sneak up on is going to sense it. Instead you have to try and throw yourself like a basketball, and when the ball would bounce you just kinda, stick. Does that make sense?”

Castiel couldn't help but laugh, and shook his head. “Not at all. But I can try to give it a shot.”

Dean winked. “That’s my boy.” His hands, which had dropped during his tutorial, bounced up and blocked his face again. Behind the fists, Castiel could just make out Dean making kissy faces at him.

“You’re a child,” Castiel laughed just as he threw his first punch. Dean blocked it easily and threw a punch of his own, followed by a swift knee aimed at Castiel’s ribs.

The back and forth continued with neither man landing a hit, but that wasn’t really the point. Once Castiel found himself in the right flow and mindset, he was able to focus more on trying bilocation. The golden energy was right at his fingertips and for a moment he was surprised that he couldn’t see it dancing around his fingers. As he threw a punch at Dean’s side with his right hand he imagined throwing the energy with his left, just like a basketball.

As the energy would have struck the floor, he imagined it shifting into a form that looked just like himself.

And just like that, Castiel was standing just behind Dean looking at his own gobsmacked face. Before he could think better of it he reached out and shoved Dean in the back, hard, sending him toppling on top of the real Castiel.

It was the weirdest thing; watching Dean fall right on top of him from two different perspectives. However, Dean falling on top of him did effectively break his concentration and his double disappeared like dye in water.

Dean landed with an _oof_ , knocking the wind out of both of them.

Castiel took half a second to enjoy Dean’s body weighing down on his own before he pushed the larger man off. To his surprise, Dean laughed as he rolled away. “What the hell, man? If you wanted me that bad, you only had to ask.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, embarrassed. “I didn't mean to.”

“No, man. It’s cool. You did it, right?” Dean had shifted onto his side, and propped himself up on his elbow so he could see Castiel better.

“Yes,” Castiel admitted shyly, “But I’ll need to get used to the shock if it’s to be useful to us.”

“That comes with practice, man,” Dean said, his voice soft like velvet. The silence stretched on for a beat before Dean reached out with his free hand and brushed gently at Castiel’s temple. “Have I told you today how special you are?”

Castiel couldn't help but blush. “Yeah, I think so.”

Dean softly pressed down, messaging the thin skin along Castiel’s hairline. Castiel leaned into the divine pressure. “Can I kiss you?” Dean’s voice was so quiet, Castiel could barely hear him, but he did. Instead of answering, Castiel leaned up and granted Dean’s request.

Their training had left both of them with a sheen of sweat on their bodies, but Dean’s lips were surprisingly dry. It took less than a second for Dean to open his mouth and tease at the seam of Castiel’s lips with his tongue. Cas granted the silent request and felt his body tremble as Dean invaded his mouth.

Castiel leaned back against the mat and Dean followed him down. Before he could get completely caught up in the feeling of Dean, and the want of more, someone made themselves known by the clearing of a throat. Dean pulled away quickly, and Castiel was gifted with the sight of Charlie looking down at them, smirking. “Sorry to interrupt, boys, but I think this is a little off topic, don’t you? Plus, I don’t know how much _your brother_ is liking the show.”

Castiel shot up so fast he made his head spin. Gabriel was still in his seat, but his knees were pulled up to his chest, his head bent against them, with both hands covering his ears. “Is it over? Can I look?” He yelled, overcompensating for the quiet and lack of hearing.

“Yes, Gabriel,” Castiel said, face aflame. When Gabriel didn't immediately move, Castiel realized that his brother was also humming under his breath and couldn’t hear him. So he pushed himself to standing, and made his way towards his brother’s seat. Once he got close enough he could recognize the song Gabriel was humming, “Sugar, Sugar” by The Archies. “Gabriel, it’s okay now,” he said again, louder this time. Finally Gabriel stopped humming and cracked his fingers open, glaring at Castiel through the slits. “I apologize.”

“I know I’m into some kinky shit, but I’m definitely not interested in watching my baby bro get it on with a dude older than I am,” Gabriel complained, still glaring and huddled in on himself like a child.

Castiel rolled his eyes, and pulled Gabriel’s hands away from his face. “I said I was sorry. Why don’t we take a break and get some lunch?”

“Fine. But I get to pick the joint.” Gabriel’s demands garnered him another eye roll from Castiel, but Castiel knew that, as far as demands go, it could be a lot worst.

* * *

The sushi place Gabriel led them to had one of those carousels that circled the questionable raw fish to the customers.

Castiel had never been a fan of sushi, but it seemed Dean was even less so. While Castiel was picking at an avocado roll Dean was just frowning down at his beer, refusing to touch anything that came on one of the little plates.

Gabriel and Charlie had no such reservations. Between them they had nearly ten empty plates stacked, and didn't look like they were quitting anytime soon.

“This is a waste of time,” Dean grumbled. “We should have just kept training while these two got the chow.”

“And leave you to deflower Cassie? Not a chance, Satchel Mouth,” Gabriel shot at the other man with a mouth full of rice, seaweed, and what might be ahi tuna.

Charlie giggled behind her hand while Dean mouthed, “Satchel mouth?” confusedly.

“I agree with Dean,” Castiel said as he pushed away his plate. “We really should get back to what is important.”

“Hey! It was you that suggested lunch, dingbat,” Gabriel shot back, mouth thankfully empty.

“Yes, Gabriel, I suggested we get a meal two hours ago.” At Dean’s insistently agreeing head nod he stood, and dragged the older man up with him. “By all means you man continue to enjoy your lunch. We’re going to go back to train. You can meet us back at my apartment tonight.”

Castiel pulled out a twenty dollar bill and handed it over to Charlie, who saluted him in thanks. “Come on, Dean.”

As the two men pushed out the front door of the restaurant, Dean let out a huff of a laugh. “I said it before and I will say it again.” He took a step closer to Castiel and slid a firm hand around his lower back. “You are _incredibly sexy_ when you take charge.”

Castiel blushed and squirmed out of Dean’s hold. “Gabriel could see us, Dean.” Once he checked that Gabriel wasn’t, in fact, watching them he placed his own hand against Dean’s side. “Let’s get back to the warehouse.”

Castiel took Dean’s hand when it was offered, and walked the short distance to the impala. As they slide into their seats, Castiel finds his stomach start to wiggle in anticipation.

Unlike many of his family and acquaintances think, he is not completely inexperienced when it comes to sex. While he's never gone past some over-the-clothing fondling with anybody else, he’s done enough by himself to not be a complete novice. And the thought of doing some of that stuff with Dean is definitely something he wants to do, soon if possible.

By the time they pulled up to the warehouse Castiel had worked himself into a semi-aroused state. Dean seemed unaffected, or if he was he knew how to hide it better than Castiel did. Once the garage door was closed, Dean slipped out from behind the steering wheel and closed the door behind him. Castiel was startled into not following right away. That didn’t seem to matter, though, as Dean quickly opened the passenger side door and dragged him out by his t-shirt.

Then Castiel found himself against the side of the impala with Dean pressed against his front and a pair of lush lips against his own. He opened his mouth instinctually and moaned into the kiss. It was hotter, dirtier, than the kiss from earlier.

Castiel was breathless when Dean pulled away. “I want you to take charge, Cas. Tell me what to do. What do you want?”

Dean’s eyes were lust blown and open, and it made Castiel’s mouth water. So many possibilities. “Really?”

Dean licked his lips. “Yeah. Anything you want.”

Many scenarios flitted across Castiel’s mind but one kept returning. Castiel grabbed Dean's hips with both hands, then dragged them up over his stomach and chest, pausing to tweak the other man’s nipples. They stop at Dean's shoulder and squeeze, before pressing down. Dean must have gotten the message because his eyes sparkled with arousal before he was falling to his knees.

“What now, Cas?” He asked, staying frustratingly still.

“I think you know what I want,” Castiel responded. He was proud at how sure his voice sounded.

Dean nodded and leaned forward to bite at the edge of Castiel’s shorts. “Yeah, I do.” He looked up, eyes mischievous. “But I want you to say it.”

Castiel closed his eyes and took a deep breath to collect himself. When he opened them, he looked down and locked eyes with the beautiful man on his knees. “I want you to blow me, Dean.”

Dean bit his bottom lip and Castiel was transfixed. “Yes, sir.”

Castiel felt pressure at his waist, and watched as Dean rolled up his t-shirt and continued to nip and lick at the skin above his shorts. It struck Castiel that Dean was baiting him, and he really wanted to rise to it. “I told you what to do, Dean. Get on with it.”

“Fuck yeah, Cas,” Dean groaned against Castiel’s skin, and Castiel could feel the smile on his lips.

When Dean pulled down the athletic shorts and freed Castiel’s not hard member, it was nearly impossible for Castiel to resist bucking his hips forward. Thankfully Dean seemed keen to follow his orders and took Castiel into his mouth without preamble. The immediacy of hot suction caused Castiel to cry out and he fisted his hands in Dean’s hair as a way to ground himself.

Dean’s mouth moved expertly up and down his shaft, taking the head of Castiel’s cock nearly all the way to the back of his throat. He pulled away, licking the drops of precome from the slit. “What else do you want?”

Castiel groaned when his spit-slick cock was exposed to the cold warehouse air. “I want you to go back to what you were doing, Dean.” Castiel’s voice was firm, something he’s never really been able to pull off.

“Nothing else?” Dean asked innocently, while not-so-innocently mouthing at the head of Castiel’s dick.

“I want,” Castiel started, before Dean pulled a moan out of him. “I want you to get yourself off, Dean. Now. And do it before I come or…”

Dean looked up and smirked. “Or what?”

Castiel took a moment to think, and then smirked right back at him. “Or you don’t get to come at all.”

Dean groaned and pressed his nose into Castiel’s pubic hair, inhaling. “Goddamn, Cas. I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” Castiel watched as Dean reached into his shorts and withdrew his own cock. It was rock hard and leaking, looking nearly painful. He wrapped his palm around it and stroked.

When he then took Castiel back into his mouth the warehouse was filled with their combined sounds of arousal. Castiel kept his fingers tangled in Dean’s hair, applying just enough pressure to guide, but not force, him to the perfect rhythm.

Every time Castiel got too close he forced Dean’s mouth to slow. The edging closer and closer to orgasm was incredible, and Castiel was having a hard time keeping his noises to himself. “Dean, oh God, you feel incredible.” The praise seemed to egg him on and he redoubled his efforts to bring Castiel apart, atom by atom. “You better be close, Dean.”

Dean groaned, which Castiel took as a yes. He could hear the increased slapping as Dean moved his fist faster, jacked his own member harder.

Castiel was so close, he could feel it approaching like a tidal wave. “Dean, Dean, nnngh, I’m… You better come now, Dean. _Now_.”

Castiel felt Dean shutter and felt a hot splash of come against his shins. Once he knew Dean was taken care of there was nothing holding him back from releasing inside Dean’s mouth. The older man’s moans intensified as he swallowed the bitter liquid. Castiel's orgasm seemed to last for a lifetime, and when the aftershocks calmed his knees felt like jelly.

“Dean,” Castiel said, tiredly but desperately. Dean must have understood, because when Castiel’s knees went out, Dean was there to catch him.

“I gotcha, Cas, don’t worry,” Dean cooed. “What do you say to a nap?”

Castiel nodded against Dean's shoulder, because a nap sounded fantastic. He felt the shift as Dean slipped one arm under his knees and the other behind his back.

Castiel was nearly asleep when he felt the mat beneath his back. He slipped into unconsciousness just as he felt Dean’s body curl up behind his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, readers!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! 
> 
> This chapter is kinda a doozy! But things are starting to happen. Also, sex. Kinda. 
> 
> Beware, there is a weird locker room scene between an adult and teenagers ahead, but it's quick and almost too weird to be that bad. 
> 
> I'm also figuring that after this chapter there may be about 4 chapters left, but we'll see how things works out.

Castiel’s nap was short-lived.

Not thirty minutes after laying down, the slamming of a door woke him from what was a surprisingly dreamless sleep. He and Dean sprang up and greeted the return of Charlie and Gabriel. The redhead had somehow acquired her laptop (Castiel imagined they may have broken into his apartment) and settled herself comfortably in her armchair.

“Get back at it, lovebirds. I’m going to find you a head to break into,” she said cheerfully. Gabriel seemed to have eaten himself into a sushi-coma, and was already half asleep in his own chair.

Dean saluted his friend and pulled Castiel back towards the center of the mat.

The next few hours were spent vigorously training. They continued with the physical stuff until Castiel felt confident he could put Dean on his back, before moving on to more stealthy mental maneuvers.

Dean didn’t seem shocked in the least that Castiel took to it like a duck to water. Dean walked him through mental manipulation; making it so Dean couldn’t see him, convincing him to look the other way, and the like. They were the kind of moves that would make breaking in undetected just that much easier and safer for all involved.

By the time the group made their way back to Castiel’s apartment it was nearing midnight and Castiel felt dead on his feet. Unfortunately, their night wasn’t over. Around the nine o’clock mark Charlie had let out a victorious shriek, similar to a battle cry, and informed the stunned group that she had found the perfect mark.

Doctor Cameron Gaines was employed by Roman Enterprises. On paper he worked in product development on the junk food side of the company, but Charlie did some digging and found that he really worked under a guy named Edger Martinez who was, for all intents and purposes, Azazel’s right hand man. For a doctor, Gaines had a surprisingly low number, an even ’40.’ Charlie figured they hired him because he knew enough to be useful, but was dumb enough to not question the higher ups.

“How is this going to work?” Castiel asked loudly from the bathroom, where he was changing into his pajamas since Charlie and Dean were still in his living room. Gabriel had left earlier in the night, claiming he needed a stiff drink.

“It’s hard to explain,” Dean called back, unhelpfully.

Castiel sighed as he opened the bathroom door, comfortably dressed in sweats and a threadbare t-shirt with a hole in the collar. “You say that a lot. It’s not very reassuring.”

Dean looked up from where he was laying a blanket out on the couch and gave Castiel an almost unconscious once over than made the younger man want to blush. “Cas, I've been doing this since I was practically a kid. It’s second nature to me, like takin’ a piss or something.”

“That’s disgusting,” Castiel said with a grimace. “But understandable I guess. So what am I supposed to do?”

Dean took a seat on the coffee table, motioning for Castiel to sit across from him on the couch. “So once I’m asleep, you’ll need to get in my head. From there I’ll get us into Gains’.” Dean leaned forward and rested both of his hands on Castiel’s knees. “You just need to follow my lead. Like you said, with both of us it’ll be a piece of cake.”

Castiel mirrored Dean, leaning forward and setting his hands on Dean’s wrists. “I should warn you I’ve never been able to influence anyone else’s dreams before. I’ve only ever been an observer. I fear I won’t be any use to you.”

“No, man, you will be,” Dean soothed, “I promise. You have no idea how much help you’ll be.” As he spoke, Dean bent forward further until his forehead was pressed affectionately against Castiel’s.

Castiel wondered absentmindedly if the psychic bond he seemed to share with Dean was causing their other feelings to feel bigger, more pressing. Or if he was just falling for the first person to show him genuine care. When Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes they were all too knowing, in Castiel’s opinion, and he pulled back sharply. It was far too soon for him to be thinking whatever it is he was thinking.

“Are you ready?” He asked, standing abruptly. He caught sight of Charlie, sitting at the dining room table, half asleep as she stared down at her laptop. “Charlie, why don’t you get to sleep? You can share my bed with Dean. I don’t sleep when I’m visiting and can just take the couch once we have the information we need.”

“Mind if I take the couch?” Charlie asked with a definite slyness in her voice. “Dean’s like an octopus and I’m sure you’ll mind it a lot less then I will.”

Castiel was torn between feeling like he should refuse and eagerly wanting to accept. Dean remained seated allowing Castiel to decide, and it was that that made up his mind. “As long as you’re sure you don’t mind.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound too eager.

Dean didn't seem concerned with his shifting moods, and if anything seemed charmed by them. He gave Charlie a hug goodnight as the redhead made her way towards her bed for the evening, then politely pulled Castiel towards his bed.

Dean sat down on the side that Castiel normally left empty, pulling off his boots and jeans which left him just in boxers and a t-shirt, then shifted so he was laying down on his back under the thick comforter. The space left for Castiel looked small, but sinfully inviting. Before Castiel could second guess himself he followed Dean’s lead and slid under the covers.

Across the room Charlie was already snoring softly, filling the room with soothing white noise. Castiel turned on his side, facing Dean, just as Dean did the same.

For what felt like ages the two men just looked at one another. Castiel could feel his heart beating a loud tattoo against his ribcage, and his hands were shaking minutely. When Dean closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against Castiel’s, all of his tension just evaporated. Castiel could feel himself practically melt into the other man’s mouth, his body bowing forward so his entire front was pressed against Dean’s.

The kisses were closed mouthed, but no less electrifying. Dean’s hands held onto Castiel’s sides, bunching the fabric in his fists. Castiel’s found their way to either side of Dean’s jaw, where his stubble scratched the delicate skin of his palms.

Castiel could feel where Dean was hardening in his boxers, and knew he was in the same state, but they did nothing but press closer together.

Dean broke away first, panting and smiling. “It’s not too soon, Cas,” Dean whispered.

Castiel flushed, embarrassed that Dean seemed to be able to actually read his mind. Then he realized the heart of what Dean was saying; Maybe he felt the same way? At Castiel’s mental question Dean nodded, and leaned forward to kiss him again, slipping his tongue past Castiel’s lips.

When they parted a second time it was Castiel who was panting. His cock was stiffer now, and ready for more, but he knew it wasn’t the right time. Dean, too, seemed reluctant to stop, but managed to angle his hips away just slightly. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

Castiel nodded, feeling happy in spite of his ignored arousal. “Sleep well, Dean.”

Dean grinned, rolling onto his back and situating Castiel so he was resting against Dean’s side. “You too, sweetheart. See you inside.”

Castiel watched as Dean relaxed, his muscles going lax as his breathing evened out with sleep. He allowed Dean other five minutes to ensure a true slumber before letting himself fall headfirst into the other man’s dream.

For a split second, Castiel thought he had done something wrong, for he was still in his apartment. Then he looked down at the bed, and flushed. Instead of seeing the sleeping bodies of himself and Dean, he got an eyeful of Dean’s naked shoulders, back and ass. The later of which was flexing rhythmically as he thrust forward into Castiel's equally naked body.

The dream-Castiel had his head thrown back in pleasure, moaning like nobody could hear him. Castiel had never been particularly curious about what he would look like in his kind of compromising position, but he had to admit that it was an erotic picture. He found himself curious about what Dean looked like, and quietly rounded the bed.

Dean continued to thrust like he’d never tire of it, though in a dream he likely wouldn’t. His neck followed the beautiful curve of his back to where his head was pressed against dream-Castiel’s clavicle. His mouth was open but ever now and then he would bite, kiss, or lick at dream-Castiel’s skin.

Castiel couldn’t stop watching, and he could feel his body begin to respond. His cock was hardening in his pants, and he found himself wishing he could swap bodies with the mirage that shared his face.

He could see his double getting close. His breaths were coming faster, and his hands were scratching at Dean’s back leaving bright red tracks.

Castiel must have made a noise because just moments before dream-Castiel’s pleasure crescendoed Dean turned and caught sight of his visitor. Castiel could read the shock on his face, but Dean wasn’t able to stop his body in time. With gazes locked Dean thrust forward one final time, coming in dream-Castiel with a loud groan just as dream-Castiel erupted between their bodies.

Silence blanketed the dream as Dean shook his head, making the bed and dream Castiel vanish like an old television powering down. Dean took a moment to collect himself, standing and imagining himself some clothes. When he turned to face Castiel, the _real_ Castiel, his face was aflame with embarrassment.

Before he could apologize, because Castiel could practically see the words on the tip of his tongue, Castiel practically tackled him and the pair stumbled back onto a bed Castiel made appear just in time. 

Castiel moved instinctually, grinding his aching erection against Dean’s over-sensitized one. “Fuck, Cas. You weren’t supposed to see that,” Dean groaned into Castiel’s mouth.

“I’m very glad I did. It was quite the scene,” Castiel told him, imagining away his pants.

Dean moved his hands rapturously over Castiel’s newly revealed flesh. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, Cas. You make me want to take you apart and paste you back together with my spit and come.” His hands slide along Castiel’s spine, dipping between his cheeks to caress his fluttering hole. “But not here, not now.”

“Why not?” Castiel asked, not disappointed per say but curious.

“Because you deserve more than a quick romp in my head,” Dean explained. His hands slid around Castiel’s hips and towards his crotch, where one circled his shaft and the other fondled his balls. “But I can do this for you, if you’ll let me.”

Castiel just nodded, throwing his head back the the Castiel that Dean dreamed about just moments before.

Dean moved his hand up and down in a firm, steady rhythm. His motions were slicked by lube that wasn’t there a moment before and Castiel took a second to be thankful that they were in a dream.

Castiel let himself be consumed with the pleasure as Dean got him off. It was unhurried, and perfect.

Castiel felt his orgasm approaching and warned Dean in a strangled voice. The other man simply maneuvered them so Castiel was on his back, before sliding down and fitting his mouth over the head of Castiel’s cock. The shock of warm heat was all Castiel needed to send him over the edge, coming in Dean’s eager mouth.

Castiel fitted his hand around Dean’s throat, and felt his muscles contract and his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed all that Castiel had to give.

Dean pressed an open mouthed kiss to Castiel’s sharp hipbone before sliding up his body only stoping when their faces were inches apart. “Do we really have to leave? Can’t we just stay in this bed all night?”

“No, Dean. Doing this is important,” Castiel said though he was also reluctant to move, let alone put on pants or break into some doctors head. “We can continue later, okay?”

Dean pouted, but folded. “Yeah, okay. Let's get the show on the road, then.”

Slowly the two got themselves under control, dressing and avoided physical contact in case they got out of hand again, while still stealing happy glances over their shoulders.

Once they were all dressed, Castiel looked to Dean for guidance. “Lead the way.”

Dean grinned and held out his hands, which Castiel took gladly. The touch was strong and grounding, which Castiel was thankful once the ground beneath them disappeared. For once, Castiel was the one stumbling. Their surroundings changed from Castiel’s apartment to a forrest of some kind. Castiel got a split second look before it changed again.

They changed dreams maybe a dozen times, each change quicker than the last, before finally stopping. Castiel felt dizzy and dazed, and looked to Dean for some kind of explanation.

“It’s kinda like skipping rocks,” Dean told him. “I have to find people who are between me and Gains, it makes the trip easier.”

Castiel nodded his head in understanding. It made sense. If Dean just tried to throw his consciousness out there willy nilly he would take the risk of landing somewhere he didn’t want to land.

“So are we where we need to be?” Castiel asked as he looked around.

They seemed to be in a locker room. Along one wall is a large communal shower, with a wall of lockers separating it from the door. Behind them is a row of toilet stalls. There are random benches throughout, but a surprising lack of people.

“Where is everyone?” Castiel questioned. Never had be been in a dream that was as detailed as the one he was in without someone else occupying it.

“Sometimes I like to get a feel for the place before I deal with the mooks inside. I’m just blocking them for now,” Dean told him. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Castiel said simply. Dean grinned cheekily and stacked his one forearm over the other and hovered them over his chest, then with an exaggerated head nod the room filled.

With the explosion of people came an explosion of sound. Nearly half a dozen teenagers were suddenly surrounding them, each entirely nude. They were goading each other with twisted towels, snapping at each others naked bodies. Every couple moments two would touch each others cocks or kiss. And in the center of the action, watching and participating, was Dr. Gains. He was also naked, though much more wrinkly and droopy than the other boys.

It looked like a scene out of a bad porno. And would be disgusting if it weren’t so unbelievably ridiculous. Castiel could feel his mouth hanging open, and could see Dean’s shoulders shaking out of the corner of his eye. “What are we supposed to do now?”

Dean finally let out a hearty laugh. “Shouldn’t we let the old perv have his fun?”

“Dean!” Castiel snapped, throwing out a hand to smack Dean’s chest.

“Okay, okay. Sorry,” Dean giggled. He cleared his throat and started plucking at the air like it was attached to invisible strings. Before their eyes the boys disappeared, one by one, until only a naked Gains remained. Finally the doctor realized he was alone, seemingly not seeing Dean and Cas.

“Are you keeping us hidden?” Castiel asked, to which Dean nodded.

“I normally do. Makes things easier,” Dean said. He stepped closer to Gaines and plucked at more strings.

“But you talked to me,” Castiel pushed. “What made me different?”

“Besides your perky ass?” Dean joked. “I don’t know, man. I could feel something was different the moment I got into your head. I don’t think I could have hidden even if I wanted to.”

Castiel thought that over while watching Gains slowly get dressed in khaki slacks, a button up, and while lab coat. It was nice to be reaffirmed that he was _special_. Castiel wondered if he’d ever get used to it.

The dreamscape changed from a locker room to the entrance of Roman Enterprises. He was hurried as he pushed through the door.

“What did you do to him?” Castiel asked. As Gaines drew more hurried, Castiel and Dean were forced to speed up just to keep up with him.

“I made him think something was happening with one of the psychics. He should lead us right to them,” Dean explained.

At the end of the room the group came to a door, locked and heavy by the look of it. To the right of the door was a standard ten-digit pin pad. Dean and Castiel watched as Gaines entered the combination, 1-2-3-9. There was a large buzzer and Gaines continued through the door.

They ran to the end of the hallway, and into the elevator. They took it down to the basement. It was cold and dark, not nearly as high tech as the rest of the building. Once outside the elevator Gains walked just a few feet, to another elevator door. This time he produced a key and inserted it into a lock below the button. A quick turn of his wrist and the button lit up.

The elevator that came was old fashioned, with a grate in the car and used a lever to make it move instead of buttons. Gains took them down four more levels.

The lower basement was _white_. Pure white walls and floor, with florescent lights lining the ceiling. Gaines steps picked up again and Dean and Castiel found themselves running after him. They took a left turn, then another, then a right, before skidding to a stop in front of another door. He entered a different code, 2-4-2-2-4-6-4, and pushed open the door.

The hallway they found themselves in was entirely different from the last. It was dark and dirty, and it smelled like piss and blood. The walls seemed to lean in on one another. Gains had stopped, and Castiel turned to see that Dean had frozen him somehow.

Castiel took a tentative step forward. On both sides of the hallway there were cages. Not rooms, but honest cages with small doors and old padlocks keeping them closed. Some of the cages were filled with blurry faced kids, some were empty. A couple were occupied with people who’s faces were clear as day. It was as if Gains only cared to remember a few. Castiel wondered if that made these people special.

“Oh Jesus,” Dean swore. “Sammy, _no_.”

Castiel turned and saw Dean swaying, unsteady on his feet, as he fisted two bars in his fists.

It took a second for Castiel to be bye his side.

Inside the cage was a man, maybe in his early twenties. Castiel could tell he was tall, even though he say on the floor curled into a ball. His wrists and ankles were bony with malnourishment. His hair, which was grown past his chin, was greasy and lank. What was most startling however, were his eyes.

They were coal black.

Castiel slipped his hands between Dean’s and the bar, and slowly pried them loose. Like his strings were cut, Dean dropped to his knees.

Around them the room began to crumble. Castiel turned to see Gains, and he was looking right back.

Dean's anguish had broken his concentration and Gains was seeing them. He was confused, but Castiel feared he wouldn’t be for long.

“Dean, we have to go!” Castiel urged. Dean didn’t move.

Gains gaze was sharpening. Castiel couldn’t let him figure this out. He stood and raced to Gains, and pressed two fingers into his temples. Gains eyes clouded, and Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. “You will not remember this when you wake, understood?” Gains nodded.

Dean was still unresponsive, but his shoulders were shaking with sobs.

“Come on, Dean! We’ll save Sam, we will. But now we have to leave,” Castiel said again, pulling on Dean’s shoulders. When Dean didn’t move a muscle, Castiel knew he had to do something drastic, or fear that they both would be trapped in here once Gains woke up.

They always said if you were injured in a dream, you would wake up.

Castiel used the last of his energy to force a dagger into being. He crouched down behind Dean, and lifted the knife. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

Then he stabbed Dean in the stomach, and woke up to the sounds of screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! Sometimes I just let my fingers fly, and stuff like this happens. Let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! Long chapter! :)

Charlie was already at Dean’s side, working to quiet his screams, while Castiel shook away his grogginess. Which was a new sensation for him. Not only did he somehow fall asleep while traveling, but he didn’t wake refreshed like normal. Though that likely had something to do with the nature of the dream. To have a dream disintegrate around you does not does not a peaceful trip make.

Beside him Dean was taking heavy breaths, while his hands scrambled at the t-shirt covering his stomach. That managed to break Castiel out of his stupor. He pushed himself behind Dean, taking his fumbling hands in his own.

“Dean,” he said quietly into the other man’s ear. “I am so sorry. You’re okay now, Dean. I promise. Everything is okay.”

Charlie shot him a questioning look that was equal parts concerned and accusatory, but remained where she sat, giving the two men some space.

“Dean please say something,” Castiel whispered, placing a gentle kiss at Dean’s temple.

“‘M okay,” Dean croaked. “What happened?”

“You wouldn’t wake up,” Castiel explained. He dropped one of Dean’s hands and instead used it to card his fingers through Dean’s sweaty hair. “I had to improvise. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you, Cas.” Dean said, finally sinking into Castiel’s arms. “Sam. Was that really him?”

“I don’t know.” Besides them Charlie perked up, but Castiel shook his head to silence her questions. “It was a dream. We don’t know if that's what’s really happening to Sam.”

“Cas, we gotta get him outta there. We have to.” Dean’s voice was desperate as he groped with the blanket that had gotten tangled around his legs during the night. “Now. We need to get them out of that hellhole.”

Castiel watched. He wanted to dissuade him from jumping too soon; going off half cocked. It was a suicide mission without the proper planning. Planning they hadn’t done yet. Too many things could go wrong. But he had see Sam too. And they couldn’t risk his life. Castiel may have only just met Dean, but he knew that losing Sam would destroy him.

“Okay. let’s get dressed and come up with a plan,” Castiel said, surprising both Dean and Charlie.

“Wait a minute! We can’t just go,” Charlie finally said. “Just hold on for a minute.”

“No!” Dean yelled, finally exploding from the bed. He spun on his heel and pointed a finger at Charlie’s stunned, and increasingly tearful face. “You didn’t see him. You don’t get to tell me to _hold on_. Either you help me or not, but we’re doing this tonight. We need coffee.”

Without a backwards glance Dean tugged on his jeans and stormed to where his boots laid next to the door. He tugged them on and in the next instance he was out the door.

Charlie and Castiel both flinched at the slam of the door, and with it Charlie’s composure shattered. She folded forward, arms tucked tight against her stomach, as she sobbed. Castiel found himself pulling the red head into his arms, and he could feel where her tears soaked into his threadbare shirt.

“What happened in there?” She asked a few minutes later, once her tears had dried up. “I’ve never seen Dean get like that.”

Castiel took a moment, not knowing how to describe it. “It’s worst than we thought. They’re kept in cages like animals. Even in the dream it smelled like death. But Sam… Charlie, it was really bad. He was thin. and dirty, and his eyes were black, like everything that made him _Sam_ was being sucked out of him.”

“Oh, fuck,” Charlie swore as her eyes filled once more. “And Dean?”

“He refused to leave. He’d gone catatonic. Gains was waking up, the dream was dissolving, and I could just tell that Gains was seeing us.” Now it was Castiel who’s eyes were getting wet. He’d never felt guilt like what was filling him. Dean thought he was _special_. Dean _trusted_ him and what did Castiel do to repay him? “I stabbed him. It was all I could think of to get him back to me.”

Castiel felt as his tears ran down him face, leaving his skin itchy and blotchy. This time it was Charlie who coo’d understanding words into his ears, and wiped away the wetness with dainty fingers. “But Dean doesn’t blame you, I can see that.”

Dean. This wasn’t the time for Castiel to hate himself. He could do that later, after he helped Dean get his brother back. “Come on. We need to get ready for tonight.”

Castiel could tell that Charlie wanted to say more, but she refrained. Castiel collected clothes for the day, dark jeans and a black, waffle fabric, t-shirt. He dressed himself in the bathroom, then splashed cold water on his face.

He needed to wake up; needed to be strong tonight.

He could hear the front door open and shut, followed by the quiet murmur of Dean’s voice as he likely apologized to Charlie. Castiel gave himself one more firm look in the mirror, nodding to his reflection and taking a deep breath.

In his apartment Dean was hugging Charlie to his chest, and Castiel could hear him saying, “I’m sorry,” over and over again. Castiel watched on, feeling like he was interrupting something, and remained quiet so as to not break the moment. It didn’t last, though. As if Dean could sense him Dean turned, his eyes green and sorrowful. “Cas,” he croaked, holding out a free hand.

Castiel didn’t need any more prompting. He approached the pair, and as he stepped into Dean’s arms Charlie stepped away, mumbling about getting breakfast put together. Once they were more or less alone, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s shoulders and buried his face in his neck.

“Fuck, Cas, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” Dean whispered.

“You don’t need to say that, Dean. It’s me that should apologize,” Castiel told him. He used his hands to rub up and down Dean’s back, feeling the tight muscles relax under his palms. “I would never hurt you, you must know that.”

“I know, Cas. God, of course I know that.” Dean pulled away and held Castiel’s gaze. “You did the right thing getting me out of there. You were stronger than I was. I should be thanking you.”

Then Dean closed the distance, pressing a soft but unbelievably compassionate kiss to Castiel’s lips. Castiel felt as Dean melted into him, as he thumbed along Castiel’s jaw, mouth still working to press apologies into Castiel’s lips.

Castiel had never had premonitions before, but something told him to savor this moment.

Behind them Charlie cleared her throat. Both men pulled apart slowly, turning to Charlie who was watching with a guilty expression on her face. “I’m sorry. But if we’re doing this tonight we need to get planning, like, now.”

Dean straightened, and Castiel could watch the walls being built up behind Dean’s eyes like a soldier. “You’re right, let’s get started.”

* * *

Seven hours, five coffee runs, three delivery pizzas, and one full yellow legal pad later they had what could maybe resemble a plan.

“That seems deceptively simple,” Charlie said as she flipped through the crinkled pages. “Are we sure this is enough?”

“I think so,” Castiel said. He stood, cracked his back, and groaned. He looked at his watch, it was just before three. “So we have about three hours until Gains get’s off work. What should we do until then?”

Dean looked to Castiel and shrugged. “Do you want to take a walk, or something?”

Castiel grinned. “I’d like that Dean.”

Charlie seemed entirely unfazed being left, as Dean and Castiel wandered out of the apartment. As Dean took Castiel’s hand in his, twining their fingers together, neither questioned it. They walked in silence towards a park just a block away that Castiel had always liked. It was faintly overcast outside, meaning the park was abandoned. Castiel bypassed the swing set and the monkey bars, and went instead to the lone bench situated underneath a large oak tree.

Once they sat, Dean didn’t hesitate in wrapping an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, pulling him close so Castiel could rest his head on Dean’s shoulder. The two men sat in silence, not knowing what needed to be said in the tense silence.

There was much that Castiel wanted to say, but it all seemed inconsequential to what they had to do later. He wanted to tell Dean that he was scared. He wanted to ask what they were going to do about his family. He wanted to tell Dean how proud he was. But mostly he wanted to know what was going to happen after. Was Dean going to go back to where he lived? Kansas, or was it somewhere else? Were they going to continue whatever it was they were doing?

Since he couldn’t say any of that, Castiel stayed silent. He curled up against Dean’s chest, listened to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, and he stayed silent.

But he was content.

Dean seemed to be in the same place as Castiel. His arm was solid against the muscle of Castiel’s back, his thumb rubbing at his shoulder, and Castiel felt him press kisses to the top of his head.

They stayed like that at the sun began to set, fighting the chill as they collectively tried to ignore the situation they were in.

When Dean checked his watch a couple hours later he sighed. “It’s five. We should probably head back.”

Castiel nodded and stood, pulling Dean with him. But when he went to start the short walk back home, Dean stopped him by lightly grabbing at his wrist. Castiel turned to him, with a questioning look in his eye. “Dean?” 

“Cas. Tonight is going to be a piece of cake. You have nothing, I mean absolutely _nothing_ , to worry about,” Dean told him before leaning in to give him a kiss. “I have faith in us.”

Castiel didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded again.

As they walked back to the apartment, that became his mantra.

_We have nothing to worry about. Have faith. We have nothing to worry about. Have faith. We have nothing to worry about. Have faith._

* * *

Phase one of their plan was to wait until Gaits was leaving the center, catch him at this car, psychic-stun him, and then take his keys.

It was a haphazard, but necessary step.

They were siting in a rented van, with Dean and Castiel in the front and Charlie in the backseat fiddling with her computer. Gabriel was back home ‘holding down the fort’ and ready to call in a bomb threat if necessary.

“There he is,” Castiel said, pointing towards a grass path winding around from the back of the facility. Gains, despite the weird dreams from last night, seemed unperturbed as he made his way to his car. He was fiddling with his phone, paying his surroundings no mind.

“Okay. You block us out, I’ll stun him, and you find those keys,” Dean said as he opened the driver’s side door.

As soon as they were a few feet away, close enough for Gains to see them, Castiel whipped out that golden energy and wrapped it around Gains’ eyes like a blindfold. The second his vision was impeded Dean hit him with his own psychic power, freezing him in space. He nodded his head at Castiel, who began searching Gains’ pockets for the specific key he’d seen last night in the dream.

He found it in the doctor’s front shirt pocket. Once he had it in hand he showed it to Dean, who nodded and began to pull Castiel back towards the car. Once they were far enough away they each undid their compulsions. Gains didn’t seem to have any idea they’d messed with him, and both men sighed in relief.

Phase one was completed.

The next phase was was big one. By six thirty, according to Charlie, ninety percent of the facility staff should be home, so they had only half an hour to wait before they could break in. The time was passed, once again, in the van, Charlie was monitoring the surveillance cameras on her laptop, while Castiel and Dean sat silently in the front seat. Their hands were connected and resting in the small space between them.

Castiel could feel every worry he’d ever had, hear every jab at his number, and it was all telling him that he was making a huge mistake. When his thought got to be too grand, Dean would squeeze his hand, and Castiel would remember; _We have nothing to worry about. Have faith._

When the van’s clock said six-thirty Charlie leaned forward, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. “Please be safe. I’ll have the car ready to go." She turned to press a kiss to Dean’s cheek, then Castiel’s.

Without any fanfare they they exited the car again, and made their way silently to the back of the building. Castiel gripped the key in his palm hard enough to feel it’s teeth bite into his skin. But still he tried to focus, meditation on the only thing that mattered.

_We have nothing to worry about. Have faith. We have nothing to worry about. Have faith. We have nothing to worry about. Have faith._

_We have nothing to worry about._

_Have faith._

* * *

Dean felt like he was falling apart.

He told Cas not to worry, but he was being a fucking hypocrite.

His brain was like a whirlpool of negativity. What if he was too late? What if Sam was beyond saving? What if they moved him? What if he was dead? How would he live with himself if his ultimate failure ended in his baby brother’s death? He couldn’t handle that. He’s sure that if that happened, his whole life would shatter like cheap pottery. And the pieces would be irrevocably damaged.

But he couldn’t let the cracks show. He had to be strong for Cas, because his cracks weren’t so easily hidden.

Cas was worried. Hell, Cas was terrified.

There was a part of Dean that hates himself for ever dragging Cas into his fucking mess. Cas was too pure, too good to be a part of his life.

Fuck, it wasn’t the time to think about that.

They were at the back door, and Dean pulled out his phone. Once he got the all clear text from Charlie he pulled out his lock pick set, and began working at the tricky son of a bitch blocking their path.

A minute later and they were inside.

He and Cas made their way through the labyrinth of hallways towards the lobby. The closer they got, the more careful they had to be. Thankfully they hadn’t been seen, but that was about to change.

Dean stopped Cas just as they were about to round the final corner. Get ready, Dean said silently to the other man. _We have to whammy the guards right away. Okay?_

Cas took a deep breath, but Dean could practically sense his terror. _Yes_ , he finally said. Dean gave Cas what he hoped was a comforting smile.

They entered the lobby and Dean could feel the explosion of power as Cas made the guards ignorant of their presence. Once they were sure they were invisible, Dean led them to the door. He entered the code, and breathed a sigh of relief when the light turned green and they were able to slip through the door.

There were fewer guards in the second hallway, and they were able to get into the elevator without incident.

The building was creepier than it had seemed in the dream, and Dean didn’t want to waste time looking around. Once in the basement Dean turned towards the old, antique door and held out his hand. Cas handed over the key without needing to be asked.

The second elevator shook and Dean felt his hands mimic it. He shook his head; he couldn’t show weakness.

In the subbasement they ran through the maze of hallways, Cas leading so he could whammy every guard they came across. When they made it to the door that separated them from Sam and the others, Dean stopped. He went to put in the code, but his hands were shaking again.

“Let me,” Cas said. He entered the code he remembered from the dream and the door.

The smell was even worst than the dream. Then it had been like a memory, but in person it was visceral. Dean could practically taste the blood and shit, and it made him gag. These poor people, being left to life in this vile room. He looked to see Cas already at the end of the hallway. He’d somehow acquired a large crowbar and was working to break one of the locks.

Dean shook himself out of his stupor and quickly strode to the cage that had held Sam in the dream. Having seen him already, it wasn’t as much as a shock, but he still didn’t like seeing his brother in the state he was in. “Sammy?” Dean whispered. “Please, brother. Can you hear me?”

Sam, who was slumped with his head against the concrete, was still. At first Dean feared that he was too late, but then Sam twitched in his direction.

“Sammy? Sammy!” Dean’s voice was louder than before. But he had to risk it. Sam was starting to hear him.

“Dean?” Sam croaked. His voice was like a wood chipper, but as he spoke the blackness cleared from his eyes leaving a confused hazel.

“Fuck yes, Sam! I’m here for you,” Dean said, unable to hide his relief.

He could hear Castiel breaking locks and the low timber of his voice as he spoke to the other prisoners. Part of Dean felt guilty for not helping, but he could feel Cas sending him placating vibes. Cas understood.

Finally Cas made it to Sam’s cell, and broke the lock like it was nothing. As soon as he was able, Dean was inside taking his brother into his arms. “Goddamnit it’s good to see you, Sam.”

“Dean, we have to go,” Dean heard Castiel say from the hallway.

Dean got that, he did, but he was also finally seeing his brother again.

“I’m not going to stab you again, Dean. We have to get out of here,” Cas said, and Dean actually laughed.

“That’d be a little dramatic, Cas,” Dean shot back.

He wrapped Sam’s arm around his shoulders and hefted his gigantic little brother’s weight onto his own back. In the hallway Cas was corralling the others, seven other psychics in various stages of fatigue and sickness. A couple of them, a dark skinned man and a twitchy looking dude in a bathrobe, were helping the two girls stay on their feet.

“Okay so Cas you gotta go first, you know the drill. Sam and I’ll take the back. Keep quiet," Dean instructed. “Everyone got that?”

The large group nodded and Castiel led them back through the building. They managed to make it back to the ground floor without incident. Just as they were about to turn the last corner a guard emerged from a door in the center of their group. Cas was too far away to catch him, unfortunately. And Dean just knew this was the end for them.

One of the psychics in the middle of the back grabbed the guard by the face, and he broke into a pained scream. Dean could see electricity dance just under his skin, and one of the girls screamed. There was no way the guards didn't hear that.

In a flash Cas was pushing through the group towards Dean. “Dean, you have to get these people out. I’m going to hold off the guards.”

“Hell no! No way, Cas. We can make it,” Dean snapped back.

“No, _you_ can make it,” Cas bit out. “Go now!”

Dean watched, heart in his throat, as Cas used his powers to push Dean towards the exit. When Dean tried to get back to him, he was stopped by a solid wall of psychic energy. “Cas! Don’t you fucking do this, you son of a bitch!”

On the other side of Cas, a group of guards appeared. They were equipped with tasers and police batons. He could see the guards hitting a barrier similar to the one he faced. The guards were shocking the barrier with their tasers, and Dean saw Cas flinch with every hit.

Dean watched as Cas collapsed, but his two barriers stayed strong. “Cas! Come on, get up! You’re stronger than this!”

Behind him he heard the other psychics running for the exit door, leaving Dean and Sam behind. Sam, who had gained a little lucidity in their escape, was pulling at Dean’s elbow. “Dean, we have to go!”

“No! Not without Cas!” Dean yelled, pulling out of Sam’s hold. “Cas! Fuck!”

The guards were weakening their barrier, and the logical part of Dean’s brain knew they had minutes before they both gave out. They did need to go, but dammit he couldn’t stand to get Sam back then immediately loose Cas.

Cas was wavering on his feet, and Dean could see a steady stream of blood dripping out of his nose.

 _Dean, please. You have to go. I can’t stand to see you get caught. I’ll be okay, I promise._ Cas’s voice was weak, and Dean felt his eyes well with tears.

The guards finally made it through their barrier and the last thing Dean saw before turning tail to run was Cas spitting blood in their faces.

Once outside Dean and Sam ran to the van, that was still idling in the parking lot. It was stuffed full, but the brothers were able to slide in, just as Charlie laid on the gas, and blew out of the parking lot.

“Dean!” Charlie called, and Dean realized it probably wasn’t the first time. “Dean, where’s Cas?”

Dean felt a tear slide down his face. “He didn’t make it.”

“Is he…” Charlie trailed off, clearly having a hard time saying the word. But Dean got it, he didn’t want to say it either.

“No, he's not dead,” Dean croaked.

Behind them one of the psychics spoke up. “If he’s back there, he may as well be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry?
> 
> Let me know what you think.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't let ya'll stew in suspense for too long.

Dean doesn’t remember getting back to Castiel’s apartment. One moment he’s in the van, feeling like his chest is caving in, and the next he’s emptying his stomach in Cas’ small bathroom. He can hear voices just beyond the door; likely Gabriel checking Sam over and making sure he’s okay.

That should’ve been Dean’s job. He has been taking care of his little brother since he could remember. Dean managed to stand on legs that felt like jello, and hobbled to the sink. He rinsed his mouth out until he couldn’t taste bile on his tongue. He looked up, catching sight of his reflection, and grimaced.

He looked like shit.

“You will get him back,” Dean told himself. He didn’t look convinced. “Get your shit together and fix this.”

That was better.

Dean pushed the door open and readied himself to face the room. Sam was sitting at the kitchen table and, as suspected, Gabriel was checking him over. There was a hard look in Gabriel’s eyes and if the situation weren’t so dire Dean would be relieved to see the genuine concern that Gabriel held for his younger brother. Charlie was sitting at the couch, clicking at her computer.

“The other psychics okay?” He asked her, sitting down and rubbing at the bridge of his nose with a firm hand.

“You _were_ out of it,” Charlie said, eyes not leaving the screen. “Yeah, they’re good. We dropped them off at the bus station and made sure they could get home.”

“Good. That’s… good,” Dean said, because it was the truth. He just didn’t _feel_ it. He couldn’t find one fuck to give for those random psychics, one of which royally fucked them, when Cas was lost.

“Yeah, yippee-fucking-skippy for them,” Gabriel barked, his voice startling Sam and making the skittish psychic jump in his seat. “Their freedom at the cost of my baby brother! I hope you feel awesome about yourself.”

To his chagrin, Dean felt his eyes start to sting with the beginning of frustrated tears. But Gabriel wasn’t done.

“Was this your plan all along? Get Cassie on the hook so he would fall on the fucking grenade for you?” Gabriel was stubbornly refusing to look at Dean, and instead looked over Sam with laser like focus. “I bet that’s your M.O. right? Play your cons and leave a trail of broken people behind you?”

As hard as Dean tried, he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down his face. Gabriel may be wrong about Dean’s motives, but did that really matter? What he said was right. Dean got Cas involved in _his_ family drama, and it’s Cas that was having to pay for it. “Gabriel,” Dean started to say. He didn’t quite know where he was going to go from there, but it didn’t matter.

“No!” Gabriel screamed, finally turning towards Dean. His face, which Dean had only really seen as smug and jovial, was hard like concrete and his eyes were practically spitting fire. “No, fuck you. You don’t get to call the shots anymore. I do. And I’m going to do what you should have in the first place.”

“What are we going to do?” Charlie asked. She had abandoned her computer, and had somehow put her arm around Dean’s shaking shoulders without him noticing.

Gabriel scoffed. “ _You_ are doing jack shit. I’m going to talk to my dad.”

“But wasn’t he the one that was the one behind this in the first place?” Sam asked. Dean glanced his brother’s way and was happy to see Sam looking a little better. He still looked thin and pale, but his eyes had lost the preternatural blackness.

“I could give a rats ass about that,” Gabriel snapped. “No offense, Sasquatch. But now it’s not just random people with number being taken. It’s his own son. He’ll help us.”

“Let me help,” Dean croaked. He was still tearful, and had a knot of unease in his stomach.

“Not going to happen,” Gabriel barked. “It’d probably be better if you left, actually. I don’t need you here to fuck anything else up.”

“Gabe, please!” Dean could hear his voice crack, but didn’t have the wherewithal to care. “I have to help save him. You’re right, this is my fault. So let me make it right.”

Dean felt naked as Gabriel looked him over. He felt Gabe’s eyes like tractor beams as he took in Dean’s tear-stained face. He felt a flicker of hope that Gabe would see his sincerity.

“Just… get out of here, Dean,” Gabe said finally. “I don’t need you getting in my way.”

Dean felt like he was being dunked in ice water as he watched Gabriel collect his things and slam out of the apartment.

“Dean,” Charlie said softly. She was being careful with him, like she thought he was going to break, and she was right.

“No, he was right. This was my fault, all my fucking fault. I shouldn’t have dragged him into this.” Dean felt more tears fall, and buried his face in his hands to hide his shame. He didn’t deserve their comfort.

Dean felt hands much larger than Charlie’s pull his hands away. Sam was kneeling in front of the couch, and his eyes looked just as wet as Dean’s felt.

“Dean,” he whispered. “He’s going to be okay. He was strong, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, strongest I’ve ever met,” Dean croaked.

Sam reached out and cupped Dean's face in his hands. “Then he’ll be okay. Dean, he’s going to be just fine.”

“What if he’s not?” It was almost physically painful to answer the question. His torturous brain supplied him with an image of Cas how they’d found Sam; starved, pale, with coal black, dead eyes. He imagined Castiel’s brilliant mind being sucked into that nothingness. His dreamscapes, left to rot into nothing and die.

An idea hit Dean like a lightning bolt and he jumped from the couch like he had ants in his pants. “His dreams! I can talk to Cas in his dreams. I just have to get into his head.”

“It couldn’t hurt,” Charlie said soothingly. “Go. Do. Sam and I’ll figure out where we can go from here.”

Dean nodded and walked to the bed. “First, Sam could you come over her?”

Dean watched as Charlie and Sam shared a look, but ignored it. Sam approached him cautiously. “Yeah, Dean?”

“I need you to knock me out,” Dean said matter of factly. “There’s no way I can sleep right now. Come on, clock me one.”

“Dean, I’m not gonna…” Sam tried to refuse, but Dean wouldn’t let him.

“Sammy, please.” Dean used puppy eyes, normally Sam’s thing, to convince him.

Miraculously, it worked. “Fine.”

Dean felt his heart swell with gratitude and he nodded his thanks before a fist collided with his face and his vision turned black.

* * *

It took Dean a moment to recognize where he was. Last time he’d been in this dreamscape it had been so bright and vibrant. Now, though, it looked dark and like it was already starting to die. The cypress trees were just as tall, but their branches were drooping and breaking at the joints. Dean walked to the nearest tree, and touched its bark, and he felt the tree flex like it wanted more of Dean’s touch.

“We'll fix him. I promise,” Dean told the tree, and it seemed to glow a little with the reassurance.

Dean walked away from the tree and into the water.

What was once a springy, healthy pool was now sick. His boots slipped on the leaves, where they were slimy with decomposition. He reached down to touch the water, hoping to feel that telltale electricity, but instead it felt abrasive like velcro. A lone, green leaf near his pinky fluffed up and wrapped around his finger. He could practically hear it’s call for help.

“Cas? Where are you?” Dean asked the dreamscape quietly.

It was quiet, no otherworldly music or anything. “Cas?!”

Dean heard a groan coming from somewhere to his right and he turned towards it. “Cas!”

The water splashed around his feet as he ran, hoping he was going in the right direction. Finally, just a few feet in front of him, he could make out the shape of a man on the ground. Dean felt a flare of hope.

Cas was lying on his side, fingers tangled in vines. Green, very alive vines. There was actually a circle of life, going out about a foot in every direction around Cas. But Dean could see the darkness trying to encroach. But Cas was fighting it off.

Dean came around to Cas’ front and dropped to his knees. “Cas?” Dean whispered, reaching a hand out and cupping it gently around Cas’ jaw. At the moment of contact the circle of life extended another foot.

Dean looked down at Cas, and had to hide his fear. Because while Cas was subconsciously fighting, his face was void of any fire. He looked dead, like the rest of the dreamscape.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Dean coo’d. “I’m here, Cas. I’m here. Look at me.”

Blue eyes that were hazy with confusion cleared minutely, and they jumped towards Dean. “Dean?” Cas’ voice was cracked, like his vocal cords were made of cracked glass. “What are you…?”

Dean didn't let him finish his sentence before pulling Cas up and into his arms. Cas’ head lolled limply onto Dean’s shoulders, but his right hand clasped around Dean’s shirt. There was still hope.

“Oh, Cas, baby I am so sorry,” Dean cried, pressing kiss after kiss to whatever of Cas he could reach. “Are you okay? What are they doing to you?”

Cas didn’t speak right away, but his hand didn’t loosen it’s grip on Dean. “I… I don’t know. Nothing feels… real. What’s… what’s going on here?”

Dean didn’t know what to say. How did he explain when he didn’t know what has happening? “We’re gonna get you, Cas. Gabe is going to talk to your dad. He thinks that’ll help.”

“My dad? Why… what?” Cas looked up at him, and the confusion in his eyes broke Dean’s heart.

“He’s hoping your dad can convince the dicks that have you to give you back,” Dean said. Cas nodded, but just barely, and the confusion didn’t clear. Dean just knew that Cas wasn’t processing anything. “But don’t worry about that. Just… can we just sit here, just like this?”

Cas hummed in the affirmative, and burrowed closer.

Dean pulled Cas fully into his lap and wrapped his arms around Cas’ waist. He knew there was nothing he could do to save Cas now, but he could try to fix his dreamscape at least. Dean looked around them. The ring of green had grown while they talked, and was the size of a Jacuzzi. The darkness was still fighting against the life, but not the green was fighting back. “Just keep fighting, Cas,” Dean implored. He felt Cas nod against his chest.

Dean sat, completely still, for what felt like hours. He just poured psychic energy into Cas, and in turn watched as the dreamscape tried to heal itself.

Part of Dean wished it was this simple, that he could fix this dream and it would just stay healed forever, but he knew that likely wasn’t the case. He had grown the healthy landscape until it was about the size of a kingsized bed, but it never grew from there, and even started to rescind the longer he stayed.

He felt a tug on his self conscious, which normally meant it was time for him to wake up, but he resisted. “Not yet,” he whispered, “Give me just a little more time.” He squeezed Cas tighter, and felt Cas squeeze him in return. Cas had grown a little more lucid during their time in the dream and Dean didn’t want to give it up.

“Dean,” Cas said, “I’m going to be okay. You can go if you have to.” It was the first coherent sentence that Cas had managed to say.

“No,” Dean said and his eyes were watering again. “I don’t wanna give this up. I’m sorry, Cas. This is my fault.”

“No it isn’t, Dean.” Cas shifted in Dean’s arms so he could look up at the older man. “I knew this could happen. I had hoped that my low score would have made them take it easy on me. It would have been worst for you.”

“I can’t stand this.” Dean was crying again, but this time Cas was there to wipe the tears away. “I should have never dragged you into this. I’m poison.”

“No, Dean. No,” Cas said in a voice that was strong, more of the old Cas. “You are anything but poison. You are worth everything. I…”

“You what, Cas?” Dean asked quietly.

“Not like this,” Cas whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to Dean’s slack mouth. “You should go. And help Gabe. Even if he doesn’t want you to. I’ll see you soon.”

Dean cried as he continued the kiss. “I don’t want to leave you,” Dean whispered. His chest felt tight, and his hands were shaking. “I can’t… I just can’t.”

Castiel twisted in his hold until he was straddling Dean’s lap. Cas leaned down, pressing his forehead against Deans. “I want you do close your eyes, Dean. Will you do that for me?”

Dean stared into those blue eyes, clear and bright now. “Okay.”

He closed his eyes, but could feel Cas’ still boring into him. Then he felt Cas’ lips, soft and perfect, press into his. Cas’ tongue tease the seam of his mouth and Dean opened without thought.

The kiss was perfect, and it helped Dean forget about the nightmare in the real world. It made him feel selfish, it was Cas who was really dealing with it, but Cas didn’t seem to mind.

Cas pulled away and whispered, “Keep your eyes closed, Dean.” He pressed a kiss to Dean’s right cheek, then is left, then his forehead and back to his mouth. “I want you to remember this, Dean. Just this. And I’m going to count down from ten. When I get to zero you have to go, okay?”

Dean felt a sob try to crawl it’s way out of his throat, but he nodded. “Okay.”

“Ten,” Cas said as he resumed the kisses. His tongue was doing wonders to sooth Dean’s worries.

 _Nine_ , he said straight to Dean’s mind, not wanting to remove his mouth. _Eight, seven, six_.

Dean felt wetness on his face, and he wasn’t sure if it was from his tears or Cas’.

“Five,” Dean said as he pulled away, pulling Cas tight against his chest. He burrowed his face into the crook of Cas’ neck.

“Four.” Cas tangled his hands in Dean’s hair.

“Three,” Dean whispered, pressing a kiss to Cas’ shoulder.

“Two.” Cas pulled Dean back into a kiss. It was more desperate this time, full of want and fear. _One, zero. Now Dean._

Dean did as he said he would, and pulled out of the dream. He woke, and found himself in the middle of Cas’ small bed, with Charlie on one side and Sam on the other. In any other moment it would feel weird, but he found he needed the comfort. He laid back down, and curled up around Charlie. His best friend woke, but seemed unconcerned with having Dean wrapped around her like an octopus.

“Dean?” She asked, but Dean couldn’t find his voice and instead just pulled her closer. “Is he okay?”

Dean shook his head and, for what felt like the hundredth time, felt tears streak down his face.

“Oh, Dean,” Charlie whispered. She turned in Dean’s hold and pulled him against her chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Dean shook his head again, and burrowed closer to his friend.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to say anything,” Charlie told Dean, pressing a motherly kiss to his head. “Do you want breakfast?”

“Not hungry,” Dean mumbled.

“How about I make you some tea at least? It will help you relax.” Charlie didn’t give him a chance to refuse before she was pulling away from his hold, and tiptoeing towards the kitchen.

Dean felt Sam shift beside him, and Dean moved so he way laying on his back. Sam was looking at him. Dean could see out of the corner of his eye that Sam was looking better, if only on the surface.

“Sam?” Dean asked quietly. He felt Sam move onto his side, but Dean remain stubbornly on his back, eyes on Cas’ popcorn ceiling.

“Yeah?” Sam replied, just as quietly. Their soft voices reminded Dean of when they were younger, and would hide out under the bed and tell secrets.

Dean took a deep breath and asked, “What was it like in there? What’s he going through?”

“Are you sure you want to know?” Sam questioned, and when Dean nodded sharply he continued. “Well it was scary. But the others were there, and we could talk, at least at the beginning. They gave us something, a drug, that made everything a little hazy. It made using our powers almost impossible. Like they were syphoning it, but I don’t know how.” Sam paused and looked introspective for a moment. “It’s actually surprising you were able to get to him. I tried jumping to you every night and never got out of my own head.”

“There's something different about him,” Dean said. “He's got a low number, ’s why I tried to get into his head in the first place, but I don’t know man. It’s like he was a fuckin’ hundred in his head, but only a fourteen outside. He couldn't even do telekinesis until we met.”

“He was a fourteen? Really?” Sam asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah, man. But he’s so smart, and the stuff in his head was, _is_ , it is incredible.” Dean felt himself verge on gushing, but he couldn’t help it. “Sammy, I think…”

“You think what, Dean?” Sam’s voice was quiet like a church mouse.

“I think I might love him,” Dean confessed, “And I think we was gonna tell me he loved me too, but didn’t want to. Not like this.”

Sam remained quiet. Then he was pulling Dean into his arms, and letting Dean cry into his bony shoulder. “We’ll get him, Dean. I promise you. We’ll get him. Charlie has Gabe’s number. We’ll call him and help.”

“What if I just make it worst? I couldn’t handle that, Sam.” Dean hung onto his brother’s t-shirt, because as broken up as he was about Cas, he was still relieved that he _could_ feel his brother next to him. “‘M glad you’re here, Sammy. I should’ve told you that earlier.”

“Don’t worry about that, Dean,” Sam said with a short laugh. “I knew, you dork. I’m glad too. But we can celebrate when Cas is back. And you won’t make it worst, Dean, I promise.”

Dean felt the bed dip behind him and pulled away from his brother to look over his shoulder. Charlie was sitting on the bed, balancing a tray on her lap. On the tray there were three steaming mugs, a few oranges, and a stack of toast glistening with butter. Dean sat up, as did Sam, and both brothers reached for a different mug.

“So what now? What happened last night while I was… away?” Dean asked. He blew on the hot liquid and took a sip. It was spicy but surprisingly creamy and soothing.

Charlie took a sip of her own drink and picked up a piece of toast, but just broke it into pieces. “Nothing really,” Charlie said. “I tried to get into the Roman system, but they locked it down tight.”

“I tried to get into one of the guards heads, but my powers aren’t quite back yet,” Sam added.

“And Gabe?” Dean asked quietly.

“We wanted to give him the night to cool off,” Charlie explained. “And we were kinda hoping that whatever he was trying to do would work, and Cas would just show up like nothing had happened.”

“Okay,” Dean said, taking another sip of his tea knowing it was burning his mouth but not really feeling it. “So now? Can we call him?”

Charlie nodded and picked her phone off the bedside table. Dean watched anxiously as she dialed Gabriel’s number. She immediately turned it on speaker and Dean’s stomach leapt to his throat as he heard the dial tone. Dean was worried it was going to go to voicemail when there was finally a click.

“ _Who is this?_ ” Gabriel asked, his voice still hard and sharp.

Charlie looked to Dean, but he shook his head. He could still hear Gabe’s voice cutting into him like thorns. “Gabriel, it’s Charlie.”

“ _What do you think you’re doing? I told you assclowns to beat it._ ” Gabriel was still angry, but there was a stink of desperation in his voice that Dean didn’t like.

“Gabe,” Dean managed to croak. “What did your dad say?”

Gabriel was silent, then he sighed. “ _He didn’t believe me. He said that he didn’t know what I was talking about._ ”

“Well then we just need to prove it,” Dean said, feeling stronger than before. “I saw Cas. Well I visited him, in his dream, last night. It’s not good. But if you can convince your dad to travel with me, maybe we can convince him.”

“And he knows they had me,” Sam interjected. “If he see’s that I’m out then he’ll know we’re serious.”

Again, Gabriel fell silent. Dean could practically feel him weighing the pros and cons. “ _I’m still here, at their house. I’ll stay and make sure they don’t leave. Get here as soon as you can._ ”

“We’ll leave right now,” Dean said. There was a spark of hope in his chest. “I’ll get him back, Gabriel. I swear it.”

“ _You fucking better,_ ” Gabriel snapped. “ _I wasted enough time ignoring my brother to just lose him._ ”

Then Gabriel hung up the phone. Charlie set it on the tray, before moving the tray to the bedside table. “Let’s get dressed and get out of here. Sooner the better.”

Dean and Sam both moved to get up, though both were still dressed from the night before. While Charlie cleaned the kitchen and Sam disappeared to the bathroom, Dean stood still and closed his eyes.

Castiel had called their connection a golden tether. Dean hadn’t ever needed to pay it any mind, but he chose to then. He reached in the back of his mind, and found it without trouble. It was disconcertingly slack, but as soon as Dean’s mind approached it, it sparked with life. Dean flooded that golden tether with all the hope, promise, and _love_ that he could, hoping Cas could feel it. Then he grabbed it firmly and sent Cas a message.

_We’re coming for you, Cas. Hold on._

Dean waited, gripping that tether like it held the answer to the universe. He was about to give up when he heard it.

_Okay._

Dean wept, though for the first time, he did so with faith. They would get Cas back, he just knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... so there is still a little suspense. 
> 
> Your reviews give me life. Seriously. So let me know what you think. And maybe I can get the rest out sooner. :)


	10. Chapter 10

The drive to the Parish’s was tense; quiet and strained. Dean drove. He told them it was because only he knew the way, but Dean also hoped to glean a little bit of comfort from the familiar feeling of the impala’s steering wheel beneath his palms. Unfortunately even his baby couldn’t ease his fears. He kept feeling for that golden energy that tied him to Cas, and every time it went slack, even for a moment, he would focus more energy towards it.

By the time they pulled into the driveway Dean was exhausted and near tears with frustration. All he wanted to to was curl up and sleep for a week, but he refused to do it until he could do so with Cas.

By the time Dean switched off the impala and climbed out into the chilly morning air, Gabriel had appeared, or at least a copy of Gabriel.

“Are they still here?” Dean asked him. He heard Charlie and Sam get out of the car, but they were giving Dean space to handle the situation.

“They’re in the dining room.” Gabriel crossed his arms and gave Dean a calculating look. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Dean shrugged despondently. “No, man. All I know is Cas is hurting, and if I can do anything to convince your dad of that, I’ll do it.”

“You said you talked to him?” Gabriel asked. Some of the ire had left his face, leaving being a concern that Dean recognized in the mirror.

“Kinda. You know we met in his dreams, so last night I visited him,” Dean explained. “It was like his dreams were dyin’.” Gabriel sucked in a breath, and Dean heard Charlie do the same behind him. “But he was fightin’ it. But I don’t know how long he’ll be able to. That’s why I need to get in there.”

Gabriel nodded. “Okay. Let’s go save my little brother.” Gabriel disappeared, and Dean figured that was his cue to get going.

“Come on,” Dean said over his shoulder.

He strode towards the front door, which was thankfully unlocked, and lead his brother and friend towards the dining room. As he approached he head voices, and assumed it was Gabriel and his parents. He took a deep breath once the door was right in front of him, then pushed the heavy thing open.

Zachariah and Naomi looked shocked at his entrance, and the patriarch stood. “What do you think you are doing? How did you get into my house?” He bellowed, attempting to sound menacing. Dean couldn’t give a shit.

“Sit down," Dean said with just enough psychic energy to force the man to do so. “Gabe, could you seal the doors?”

Gabriel nodded. A sound filled the room like the pull of duct tape, and Dean assumed the room was on lockdown.

“Who the hell are you?” Zachariah asked, his face was turning purple with rage and Dean could feel him attempt to fight of his psychic compulsion.

“I’m the guy who’s trying to save your son’s life,” Dean snapped. He saw Naomi startle. Maybe Dean needed to change tactics. He turned towards Cas’ mother. “Ma’am, Castiel is very important to me. And he’s in trouble.”

“What’s happened to him?” Naomi asked. Dean could see her wring her hands under the table.

Dean approached the table and took a seat beside the older woman. “He was kidnapped by Roman Enterprises. They want him cause of his psychic powers.”

Her eyes sparked at the name, and Dean assumed Zachariah had mentioned his extra curricular activities to her. “But Castiel is only a fourteen. What could they want from him?”

“Your son is extremely powerful, Mrs. Parish,” Dean explained. “I met him because I needed information out of his head, and I assumed it’d be a cakewalk. But I was wrong. And now he’s in real trouble.”

“What can we do?” Naomi asked immediately, making Dean’s chest flare with hope.

“Now wait a second,” Zachariah yelled. “Naomi, this man could be lying! He admitted to being one of those despicable dream bandits.”

Naomi turned towards her husband with a glare. “Zachariah, this is our son. I don’t care.”

Dean turned towards Zachariah and cleared his throat. “I can prove it to you, but I have to warn you, it’s not going to be pretty.”

Zachariah looked between his wife’s face and Dean’s, before conceding. “Okay. What should I do?”

Dean sighed in relief and stood, walking around the table to sit next to Zachariah. “I'm gonna take you to him,” Dean paused to tap his head, “In here. Hopefully he can tell you what’s happening himself. Then you just need to convince your buddies to let him go. Tear the whole operation down if you have to.”

“Okay. I’m fairly sure you are all exaggerating. I've been to the facility and they assure me it’s humane,” Zachariah said tautly.

Dean felt his blood start to boil, and was close to punching his stupid face, but was stopped when Sam cleared his throat. “With all due respect, I’ve been there. It’s not humane. I was taken out of my dorm, thrown into a van, and drugged out of my mind while they tried to pull my powers out of my head. If your son is there, you should want to get him out as soon as possible.”

Zachariah still seemed unconvinced, but Dean didn’t have time to try and change that. “Whatever you think, I don’t care. We gotta go. Now.” Dean reached out and grabbed onto Zachariah’s hand, much harder than probably necessary.

The dream was even worst than the before. Last night it had been recognizable, though just barely. That was not the case anymore. The only way Dean could tell where he was was because he knew what to look for. He looked down to where his feet were sinking in sludge, and grimaced. Beside him Zachariah was swearing and looking around.

“Where is this?” He asked as he looked around the cavernous space.

“This was one of Cas’ dreamscapes. It used to be bright and green. Really beautiful. Come on, we gotta find him.” Dean looked around, hoping to find a flash of green, but saw nothing in every direction.

Cas, baby, where are you? Dean asked silently. The golden tether jumped, but no word from Cas. “Okay. New tactic,” Dean said aloud. He reached inside his mind, and took hold of that energy. “Keep an eye out.”

“For what?” Zachariah asked, finally sounding concerned.

“Anything,” Dean settled on. He poured all of his energy into that golden tether, and breathed a sigh of relief when it accepted what he had to offer. Cas, he sent through it, you gotta do something, sweetheart. Show me where you are.

Dean closed his eyes, focused on giving everything he had to Cas, hoping it would be enough. He felt a hand grip his bicep, and opened his eyes to see Zachariah pointing at something in the distance. Far away, right on the horizon, there was the flicker of candlelight.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” Dean said, uncaring that Zachariah could hear him, and then he took off running. His feet slid on the wet leaves, but he didn’t pay it any mind. He could hear Zachariah behind him, stumbling, but didn’t stop to help. He needed to get to Cas.

He ran for what felt like a year, a lifetime, until he finally came upon the source of light.

There was just a single candle, floating just two feet off the floor. At the base of it, holding his hand to face the light, was Cas.

The ring of light that had surrounded him the night before was gone entirely. Instead Cas the curled up on his side in the fetal position. The toxic blackness was crawling up Cas’ skin like sludge-filled veins. They were especially thick around his neck, like a vile collar.

But his eyes were the worst. The blue that captured Dean from the start was completely eclipsed by black.

“Dear God. Castiel?” Zachariah swore as he sunk down in the grime.

Dean sunk down on Cas’ other side and pulled him into his arms. Being close allowed Dean to focus even more energy into Cas, but it did very little to heal him or the world around them.

“What are you doing?” Zachariah asked as he reached out to touch his son.

“Cas and I have a connection,” Dean explained, voice strained. “I’m giving him some of my energy. It helped last time.”

“Can I help?” Zachariah prodded. His hand was settled on Cas’ cheek, but Cas barely twitched.

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted sadly. “You could try. Just focus your psychic powers on him, maybe some will get through.”

The three sat in near silence. Ever couple minutes Dean would catch Zachariah’s mumbled words, usually apologies for his child. It was in a moment of tomb-like quiet that Dean heard it.

Dean.

Cas’ voice was wobbly and slurred.

“Cas,” Dean whispered. Zachariah’s head whipped towards Dean, but the younger man ignored it. “Baby, I’m here. Can you hear me?”

More silence. Dean felt a pressure in his head, right between his eyes.

Dean.

The fear in that one word, in his name, broke Dean’s heard. “He needs more,” Dean said aloud. He practically flooded Cas with power, so much that he felt his own presence in the dream flicker.

“What are you doing?” Zachariah asked after Dean’s shape began to blur at the edges. “If you give too much you will have nothing.”

“He needs it more than I do,” Dean managed to say through gritted teeth.

Dean was losing power too quickly. He could feel his powers starting to give out. Then Cas opened his eyes with a gasp of air.

“Cas!”

“Castiel!”

Blue eyes looked up at Dean, then across at his father, and back to Dean. He took in Dean’s hazy appearance and his eyes widened. “Dean, you have to stop, I’m okay now. You could of killed yourself.”

Dean pulled Cas to his chest and squeezed. “Worth it. So freakin’ worth it. You scared me for a while there, kid.”

There was a puff of air as Cas chuckled against his neck. “Not a kid.”

“Castiel,” Zachariah said again. Dean and Cas separated enough for Cas to look at his dad.

“Father? What are you doing here?” Cas asked, looking around as if his surrounding would offer some insight.

Zachariah leaned forward and placed a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “I am so sorry. I had no idea. I’m going to do what I can to get you out of there.”

Cas nodded, assured by Zachariah’s words, then turned back to Dean. “You should go. I think they can tell when you visit. Things get worst afterwards.”

Dean knew he was right. If those guys monitored psychic energy, then his loan would definitely blip their radar. “I’m coming for you.”

“I know,” Cas said, leaning up to press his face against Dean’s neck.

Zachariah was watching them when Cas managed to pull himself away, then pulled his son into a hug. “Soon, son. I promise.”

Dean allowed the father and son a moment, and then forced himself to stand. “The sooner we go, the sooner we can get you outta here.”

Zachariah nodded and set Cas back down. Cas, thankfully, seemed stable enough to remain seated.

Dean leaned down to give Cas a kiss on the top of his head. “See you soon.” He waited to see Cas smile, then grabbed Zachariah’s arm and pulled them back to reality.

Naomi was at their sides instantly. “Well?”

Zachariah shot from his seat and stomped to the door. “Open this. Now,” he snapped at Gabriel. “We’re going to get him.”

“I’m coming with you,” Dean said without a hint of hesitation.

“Of course,” Zachariah conceded, surprising the others in the room. “Naomi, dear, you may want to stay here.”

“Like Hell!” Naomi lashed out, startling everyone in the room. “I’m going to get my son.”

Zachariah pulled on the door handle but it didn’t budge. “Gabriel! The door!”

“Sorry,” Gabriel whispered. There was a sound like velcro separating, and then the door was pulled open by a vicious Zachariah. Dean and Naomi followed all the way to the front of the house.

“I’ll drive,” Dean said, gesturing to the impala. “She’ll be the fastest.”

The Parish’s barely nodded as they jumped into the car.

“We’ll be back,” Dean called back to Sam, Charlie and Gabe, who were all staring slack jawed in the front doorway.

Dean broke probably every traffic law as he sped back to Roman Enterprises.

He pulled into a handicapped spot by the door, and the three strode purposefully into the lobby. It was different during the day, but Dean didn’t have a chance to focus on it before Zachariah was bellowing, “Where is Azazel? Azazel! I demand to see him!”

A man behind a shiny counter was talked into his headset, and Dean watched as the security guards congregated around the door that lead to the basement.

Across the room a different door slid open and an older man walked through it. His short, gray hair was messy, and his smile seemed too wide for the occasion.

“Senator Parish!” Azazel said cheerfully. “To what do we owe this surprise visit?”

Once he was within spitting distance Zachariah let his fist fly, clocking Azazel across the jaw. “Where. Is. My. Son?”

The security guards leapt into action, but Dean had enough psychic power to hold them at bay. “Answer him.”

Azazel looked up at Zachariah with wide eyes. Dean could see him weighing his options. Thankfully he picked the right one. “Edger.” A frowning security guard stepped forward. “Go get out latest acquisition.”

“Why you son of a bitch,” Dean seethed as he lunged at the smug, prone man. Zachariah caught him before he he had the chance to cause any damage. Naomi, on the other hand, slipped past them and delivered a swift kick to the man’s groin.

“I will shut you down,” Zachariah hissed. “What you’re doing is barbaric.”

“You opened the door,” Azazel wheezed. “There will be no stopping us now.”

Zachariah grinned humorlessly. “Watch me.”

Dean heard the creak of a door, and his head snapped around to see Cas being lead out on shaky legs, by the uncaring security guard.

“Cas!” Dean ran across the room, and caught Cas just as his knees buckled.

“You’re here,” Cas whispered, burrowing into Dean’s hold.

Dean tilted Cas’ face up with a finger under his chin, and looked into Cas’ face. There were bags under his eyes, and his pupils were dilated, but Dean saw a shock of blue that made his heart spin. “I told you I’d come.”

Cas smiled, and Dean leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. Then Cas looked over Dean’s shoulder. “Mother? Father?”

Zachariah and Naomi were there immediately, and pulling Cas out of Dean’s hold and into their own.

“Oh Castiel. I am so sorry,” Zachariah whispered to his son.

Naomi was kissing Cas on the forehead and wiping away her tears. “Let’s get you home.”

The three Parishs stood and, with Dean, filed out of Roman Enterprises.

At the impala Dean slid behind the wheel with Zachariah riding shotgun. Cas curled up against his mother’s shoulder in the back, and was asleep before the engine even turned over.

Dean watched in the rearview mirror as Naomi pushed Cas’ fringe away from his sweaty brow. “Thank you,” she said to Dean without taking her eyes off of her son.

* * *

Back at the Parish homestead Dean took Cas into his arms. Cas barely noticed.

“Follow me,” Naomi whispered as she lead the way into the home. Zachariah disappeared into his office, mumbling about making some calls.

The room Naomi led him to was on the second floor, away from the office. It was lavishly furnished, but Dean only had eyes for the large kingsized bed. “I’m going to sit with him,” Dean told her as he set Cas down and pulled the duvet up to his chest.

“Take as much time as you need,” Naomi said fondly as she looked down at Cas. “I owe you my life, Dean. Thank you.”

Dean smiled at the older woman. “Could you let Sam and Charlie know I’ll be down later?”

“Of course.” Naomi leaned down to kiss her son on the forehead, then surprised Dean by dropping on on his head too. “Tell me son I love him, very much.”

Once the door to the room clicked shut, Dean slid under the duvet and curled against Cas’ side. He closed his eyes, and for the third time in a day he slipped into Cas’ subconscious.

He was able to spot Cas immediately. The dreamscape was lit again, and while it wasn’t as lush as it was before, it was still healing. Cas was sitting on his knees with his eyes closed. Both his hands were treaded in the leaves that littered the ground. Energy was pulsing out of him, and with it, life was spreading.

Dean just watched, enthralled by the other man.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, breaking Dean’s stupor. “Come here.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. In two seconds he was at Cas’ side. The younger man looked happy, despite the last day. His smile was small, but it made Dean’s heart flutter.

“You’re lookin’ better,” Dean said as he reached a hand out and ran his his fingers through Cas’ hair.

“I feel better,” Cas said. His eyes popped open and he smiled. He carefully withdrew his hands from the foliage and climbed into Dean’s lap. He surged forward, pressing his lips to Deans in a tender kiss. “You saved me, Dean. You almost killed yourself to bring me back.”

“I would do anything for you, Cas,” Dean told him between biting kisses. Cas hummed into Dean’s mouth. It felt perfect.

Dean leaned down, pressing Cas into the wet ground. As they kissed, Dean could feel the water warm and the leaves perk up. The dreamscape began to vibrate with the influx of psychic energy. It was driving Dean wild. He thrust his hips down, and he could feel Cas’ arousal against his own. Dean wanted nothing more than to keep going until they both came undone, but he knew that it wasn’t the time.

Dean pulled away slowly; reluctantly. He looked down at Cas’ flushed face, and grinned. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Cas grinned. “Me too.”

He leaned up to resume the kissing, but Dean didn’t let it get far. “Cas, you just got back. Let’s just relax for now, okay?”

“I have a great idea,” Cas said. He turned onto his stomach and pressed his hand down on an empty space of ground. Like the first time Dean visited, Cas created a small pool, only this time it was large enough for two. Cas looked back with an eyebrow raised and Dean nodded.

The two men stood and stripped out of their jeans and t-shirts. Dean was ready to climb in with just his boxers, but then he watched as Cas slipped out of those as well. Cas showed no shame as he slid into the water, leaving ample room behind him. “Dean?”

“Yup. Coming,” Dean said as he stepped out of his own underwear and into the water. It was warm again, but with Cas’ smooth back against his chest it got even warmer. Cas shifted around in the water, rubbing his perky ass against Dean’s crotch. “Cas,” Dean moaned, trying like Hell to not get too excited.

“Hold on,” Cas breathed out. He only stopped once Dean’s half hard cock was perfectly nestled between his cheeks. “There. Okay?”

Dean groaned into Cas’ shoulder, then kissed the wet skin. “Yeah. Definitely okay.”

The two sat in silence, warm and comfortable and edging on aroused. At one point the music started up, and Dean hummed along with the familiar tunes. One of Dean’s arms was wrapped around Cas’ chest, and he trailed his fingers up and down his sternum slowly.

“Hey Cas?" Dean said softly, not wanting to ruin the mood. Cas hmm’d and cracked open an eye to look at the older man. “I want to tell you something. I wanted to tell you earlier, but I wan’t the right time.”

As if sensing the gravity of what Dean wanted to say, Cas lifted off Dean’s lap and turned so he was straddling him instead.

Dean lifted both hands and cradled Cas’ face. With one thumb he pulled Cas’ bottom lip down, slipping this thumb inside for a second. “Cas, you are the most incredible person I’ve ever met. I went into this just lookin’ for my brother, but somehow I fell for you in the process.”

Cas’ eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Dean took the chance to kiss Cas deeply, slipping his tongue into that warm mouth.

“Are you saying…?” Cas asked once Dean pulled away.

“I’m sayin' I love you, Cas. And I want to stick around, if you’ll let me.” Dean watched as Cas processed his words. Then his face split into a broad grin.

“I love you too, Dean, more than you know.” Dean pressed his consciousness against Cas’ and felt the tenderness of his love.

“Nah, man. I think I get it.” The two men smiled, then they were kissing again.

Around them the world exploded with color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we just have the epilogue left. :'(


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love Jake Tapper.

“Cas! Get your ass in here!” Dean picked up the remote and turned the volume up on their little television. On screen it showed the steps city hall, already filled with reporters. At the center of the hoard stood Sam and Zachariah, both dressed in sharp suits. Sam looked healthier, if still a little thin.

Dean felt as Cas took a seat next to him, handing over a bottle of coke and a bowl of popcorn. Dean lifted his arm and Cas snuggled into his hold.

The couple remained quiet as the flashes of photographers filled the screen. Then Zachariah stepped up to a microphone situated in the center of the action. “ _Today has been a glorious day. Today we fought against Roman Enterprises, and won. We exposed the cracks in the system, including people like me who believed harshness would benefit the greater good. I was wrong. I have seen what those people did to people like my son. To people like Sam Winchester, who was taken from his home all to benefit the greater good. If we are to grow as a society, we need to learn to accept one another because that, my fair constituents, is what will truly benefit us all._ ”

Zachariah stepped back, and clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. The younger man stepped up to the microphone and cleared his throat. “ _It’s been an honor being able to be a part of this movement. And I hope to put my future law degree to good use helping people, like my brother, who have been wronged by the system gain their freedom back._ ”

The crowd applauded and reporters started to raise their hands. Sam stepped back, allowing Zachariah to handle the questions. He pointed at a man in the front row. “ _Yes, Jake Tapper, CNN. Mr. Winchester, you mentioned your brother. How was he wronged by the system?_ ”

Sam stepped forward after a receiving a reassuring look from Zachariah. “ _We grew up on the road. My dad worked odd jobs, meaning we didn’t have a permanent address. So my brother, who is one of the most brilliant people I know, was never able to take his test. So he’s never been able to work. He made sure that didn’t happen to me._ ”

Cas leaned up to look at Dean, who’s eyes were shining with pride. “Do you ever regret it?”

“Regret what?” Dean asked as he looked down at the blue eyed boy at his side.

“Not fighting harder to get a score,” Cas clarified.

Dean took a moment to think it over, though he didn’t have to think long. “No, I don’t think so. It was hard, yeah, but it led me to you.”

Cas grinned. “Cheesy, Dean. You can do better.”

The couple laugh, and Dean closes the short distance between their mouthes.

“ _What about you son, Senator Parish?_ ” A reporter asked.

“My son,” Zachariah said with more pride in his voice than Dean had ever heard, “Is one of the strongest psychics I know despite the face that he has a low score. And I want to try and help other like him.”

Dean looked down to see tears welling in Cas’ eyes. Finally, after nineteen years, Cas was hearing the words he’s craved. “Wow,” Cas whispered. “Didn’t think I’d ever see the day.”

“He was bound to see how incredible you were, sweetheart,” Dean told him.

The conference concluded soon thereafter, and Dean switched the TV off. “Wanna go grab lunch?”

Cas smirked, and Dean found himself doing the same. Ever since Cas’ return from the dark, he’s been more than happy to let himself indulge in Dean’s dalliances.

“Or maybe not?” Dean offered.

In answer Cas stood and held out a hand. Dean took it immediately and felt a tug as Cas pulled him to his feet. Dean grinned when Cas’ hands immediately went to his flannel, ripping it off his arms and busting buttons in the process, then to his belt. He undid it quickly and pulled it out of his belt loops with a _ziip_. Next he gripped the waist of Dean’s jeans and boxers, and shoved them down Dean’s legs. Only when Dean was completely naked did Cas start walking the short distance to his bed.

Dean trailed after him like an eager, naked, horny puppy. His cock was already getting hard, bobbing between his legs.

Cas pointed to the bed and commanded, “Sit.” Dean did as he was told, one hand going to fondle his balls. “Don’t touch,” Cas snapped.

Once Cas was sure Dean would follow his instructions, he slowly began to strip out of his clothes. He began with his shirt, pulling it up from the hem, slowly. Once it was just past his nipples, he let his thumbs flick them. Dean groaned as the peaks stiffened.

“Cas, you’re killing me,” Dean swore.

“Be patient,” Cas whispered as he pulled the cotton over his head and threw it across the room. He was only wearing sweatpants, so it only took seconds for him to bare himself to Dean fully. He climbed onto Dean’s lap and his mouth immediately descended to bring Dean into a hot kiss. Their mouths were wet and insistent, but remained tender.

Dean groaned when his cock lined up between Cas’ ass cheeks. He thrust up almost imperceptibly, but Cas tsk’d and lifted up on his knees. “I want to just enjoy this for a bit.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean conceded. Cas nodded and settled back down.

Lips caressed lips, while hands trailed over warm skin having track of fire in their wake. Dean could feel where Cas’ cock was weeping against his stomach, but still they ignored them.

“Cas,” Dean said against the other man’s lips. “Take us somewhere?”

“Anything for you,” Cas said in return. Dean felt as that golden energy, that grew stronger with every day, palpitated with power. The room grew cold and Dean felt his bare feet, that hung over the edge of the bed, submerge in chilly water. Wind blew, rustling Dean’s hair.

He forced his eyes open and gasped. Cas had changed the room to something wholly new. Their bed was floating in a veritable sea of dark water. Dean could make out swirls of white under the water, but it was too far away to make out distinct shapes. What was the most breathtaking, however, was the sky.

The expanse above them was filled with stars. Some were normal, bright white flecks. Others were colors that Dean could barely fathom; green, blue, red, purple. Some were colors he had never even seen before. They danced around the sky, in tune with the ebb and flow of their combined pleasure.

With his eyes still on the sky he leaned down and sucked on the thick tendon in Cas’ neck. A cluster of stars to his right flared into a starburst. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’ waist and threw him backwards, so he was laying prone on his back. He slid the blanket out from below them and gave it a shake. With the movement it transformed into a thick brown fur.

Dean laid down so they were touching from head to toe. Their body heat contradicted the brisk air, and it made Dean want to burrow deeper into the younger man.

Dean would never tire of kissing Cas. It was like every time their lips met it was an amalgamation of every thing that brought Dean comfort: warm baths, good whiskey, juicy burgers. But it was also hot as hell. Cas kissed like his mouth could solve the worlds problems, though to Dean it kinda could.

Cas’ tongue slipped past Dean’s, and ran along the rigged roof of his mouth. Dean’s whole body shivered and he thrust his hips down. Dean could feel Cas’ stiff nipples against his own chest, and he move down to bite one, rolling the other between his fingers. Cas’ fingers were tangled in Dean’s hair, holding him in place. Dean’s other hand trailed down Cas’ side, pausing to fit his thumb into the soft divot of his hip.

Dean trailed his lips further down: laving Cas’ ribs with his tongue, biting at the the subtle softness of his stomach, dipping his tongue into his bellybutton.

By the time he made it to Cas’ crotch, the younger man was a shaking mess. His hands were twisting in Dean’s hair to the point of pain, and he was mumbling ‘Dean’s and “oh my God’s under his breath. Even the occasional ‘fuck.’ Dean loved getting Cas like this. He was normally so put together and proper. When Cas strung together his big words, it just made Dean want to reduce him to grunts and monosyllables.

“Dean, please,” Cas moaned, barely above a whisper.

Dean grinned and licked a stripe from one hip bone to the other. “I thought you wanted enjoy this for a bit?”

“Fuck that,” Cas told him. “I want your mouth on me.”

Dean groaned; he couldn’t say no to that. He sucked Cas’ hard dick into his mouth, taking him into the back of his throat immediately. Cas moaned and bucked, but Dean took it like a champ. Dean allowed Cas to fuck his mouth while his hands rubbed at Cas’ thighs and dipped back to squeeze his perky ass.

Cas threw out a hand blindly, looking for the side table in the darkness, and let out a victorious grunt when he found it. Dean heard as he dug his hand into the drawer and soon a bottle of lube and a condom was being tossed down to him. He wasted no time in popping the top, drizzling the tingling liquid on his fingers, and reaching back to run his slick digits along Cas’ crack. Cas volley back and forth between fucking up into Dean’s mouth and back onto his fingers, hoping to force them inside.

Dean couldn’t handle the teasing for long; partially because Cas deserved it, and partially because his dick was hard enough to hurt. With little resistance he was able to push one finger in. Cas let out a pleased sound at the intrusion and rolled his own hips in a delightful figure eight.

Soon Dean was able to add a second, and he scissored them to stretch Cas out. “Dean, now,” Cas practically demanded.

“Not yet,” Dean told him, adding a third finger. Cas groaned, and Dean couldn’t tell if it was from disappointment or pleasure. “Pushy,” he quipped.

Dean continued to thrust his fingers in and out of Cas’ hot, little body. A flash of color dragged his attention up to the sky. With every pass of his fingers, the starts would streak across the sky, creating a kaleidoscope of shooting stars. He smiled. It was a truly beautiful thing to see a manifestation of the pleasure he was igniting in Cas.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He groped around for the condom, and rolled it down his aching cock. If Dean were a weaker man, he could have come right then. He didn’t though. He wanted to come while inside the guy he loved.

Once he had the thin latex in place he dripped some more lube onto his cock and spread it around with is palm. “Ready?”

Cas managed to give him an ‘are you kidding me?’ look, despite his prostrate position.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Dean snarked. Before Cas could respond with something equally brusque Dean was pressing his cock into Cas in one strong, even thrust. Dean’s eyes went back and forth between Cas’ breathtaking face and the bursts of color above them.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean slurred. “You’re so perfect.”

Cas thrust his hips to meet Dean’s like the perfect next step in a dance.

Their movements grew like a storm, with every thrust and moan crashing like a wave on the shore. Dean felt his orgasm approaching. He wrapped his hand around Cas’ cock and moved it up and down, mirroring the movements of their hips. Their lips collided and Dean could have cried for how perfect it felt.

“Oh, Dean. _Oh_ , so good,” Cas moaned against Dean’s mouth. “Please, so close.”

Dean sped up his movements, wanting to bring Cas to climax.

He felt as Cas’ muscles pulled taut, and he knew it was imminent. Dean looked up and at the moment he felt Cas constrict around him, the sky erupted in color and Cas came across their stomachs.

Dean thrust just a handful more times, and then he too was coming. Cas squeezed his inner muscles, milking Dean for all he had. Dean groaned and pulled out. He pulled the condom off, tied it, and dropped it off the edge of the bed. He was a little surprised when he didn’t hear a splash when it should have hit the water.

Cas rolled over so he was cuddled against Dean’s side and pulled the conjured fur blanket over them. “This was a nice touch,” he complimented, fingering the soft fibers.

“I have to contribute somehow,” Dean joked.

The couple sat in silence, enjoying the natural rocking of the water and the multitude of stars. For Dean it couldn’t have been a more perfect moment.

“I love you, Dean.”

He grinned. “I love you too, Cas.” Well, apparently it could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.
> 
> This has been wild. The amount of support I've gotten for this story is phenomenal. You all are amazing!
> 
> If you like my writing keep your eyes peeled! I have a new story in the works. It's a high school AU (I know, I know, it's cliche) but it has a twist.
> 
> :-*


End file.
